


Axiom

by ryuusinrune (ryuuseirune)



Series: Visible [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Confessions, Consensual Sex, Crying, Dry Orgasm, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, First Dates, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Gay Rights, Gay Sex, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Phone Sex, Pining, Politics, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22876900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuuseirune/pseuds/ryuusinrune
Summary: Communication is not Victor’s strong suit.or,Loving Hop comes easy, but now Victor’s loneliness is ten times larger. Relationships are supposed to bring joy, but with it, Victor finds himself questioning his every step. First dates, feelings, and tears aside – Victor learns how to handle his feelings for Hop in a healthier way while juggling champion duties and hiding their relationship from the public.
Relationships: Hop/Masaru | Victor
Series: Visible [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644436
Comments: 30
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> works as a standalone fic! your experience may be improved if you read the previous parts.
> 
> this takes place after vantage, so hop and victor are 21.
> 
> smut occurs in chapters 1, 2, 5, 6, and 8.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these acts are consensual AND horny.
> 
> hop tops and victor bottoms because that's just how it turned out. it was unintentional. none of the... acts... were supposed to happen. but i wrote them anyway, because we should all write erotica about. things. at least once in our lives. it's my middle school cringe phase, but later in life and i'm somehow less ashamed about it. i just want mshp to be safe and happy AND have good, fulfilling sex; wholesome or unwholesome, it doesn't matter as long as it's morally tolerable

Victor, age 21, has never had a relationship before Hop.

He’s also never gone on a date before. At least, he’s never _technically_ gone on a date – not with the label of “boyfriend” fluttering around in his mind. He’s camped with Hop, he’s shared a sleeping bag with Hop, he’s eaten out of the same bowl as Hop – but none of those even compare to an actual _rendezvous_. So when Hop invites him out on a date in Hulbury, Victor knows he has to dress nicely for the occasion. He spends the last few free evenings trying to haul the nicer items out of his closet. He calls Gloria for advice and spams her with eighty-seven different outfits. He irons his collared shirt at least three separate times just in case. He shamefully buys makeup at a department store in Wyndon and watched video tutorials on PikachuTube. He books a hotel room in Hulbury for the night of the date and gets there early in the afternoon.

The peppermint chapstick tingles on his lips. Victor’s reflection looks chipper and bright even though he hasn’t slept properly since the night (morning?) Hop first kissed him two months ago. High-grade concealer does its job well and hides the dark circles that have been constant since his return to work. His duties are grinding him down and wearing him thin. All Victor wants is to enjoy this one free afternoon with Hop. Excited anticipation fills Victor's nights with dreams of kisses over pasta and sneaky hand-holding over tea. For once, Victor was safe – because he was in Hop's arms.

So why does he feel so nervous?

Victor fiddles with the collar of his shirt. He can’t tell whether or not he looks good, and it’s infuriating. With no beanie, it feels like there’s something missing, so he’s settled for black headphones, which make him feel a little less terrible. He’s wearing a plain white shirt and black pants that go all the way down to his ankles. The shiny black shoes complement it all in a look that’s reminiscent of a high-school student. He doesn’t stand out, but he looks nice enough to eat dinner with Hop later at that fancy restaurant. Usually, that’s enough for Victor, but… 

Cinderace croons and gives him a pat on the back. Her expression is concerned, almost nearly as anxious as Victor’s, and she gives his hand a hard squeeze. " _You’ll get through it,"_ her face says, doing her best to comfort him. " _I know you can. We’re friends after all."_

Bisharp lets out a trill of agreement and runs over to Cinderace. She turns to Victor and does her best battle cry. " _Show him what you’ve got! I’ll take care of Zacian and Eternatus here, so don’t worry about it."_

Victor lets out a strangled laugh. “Thanks, guys. I feel better already.” He means it, he really does – but both Cinderace and Bisharp look at him like he’s dying anyway. They may be his Pokémon, but they’re also the closest thing to human contact Victor has on a daily basis. Five years of partnership is a long time, after all, and Victor would probably be worse off if he didn’t talk to his Pokémon. At least they responded.

Victor applies peppermint chapstick again. He can hear Tsareena snicker behind him. Rolling his eyes, he turns to her. “I just want my lips to be soft when I kiss Hop. And I want to look good for him, too. Stop laughing at me.”

 _"You want to look good for him?"_ Tsareena cackles. " _Look good for yourself, Victor. Hop thinks you’re the sexiest thing he’s seen."_

Victor’s face flushes a deep crimson.

Rotom buzzes and flies from his pocket, showing Hop’s message. He’s outside of the hotel already, and Victor’s head is spinning like crazy. Slow steps, he reminds himself as the elevator descends. Deep breaths. The motion sensor doors open when Victor draws near, and he can see the familiar purple of Hop’s hair. Everything is going fine so far. He can hear his own heartbeat with every stride forward. He’s getting closer and closer yet. Hop looks up from his phone and smiles at him.

 _Arceus,_ Hop is handsome. Victor still loves the way Hop glistens when he sees himself reflected in Victor’s eyes. Hop’s own are deep brown and dark and beautiful, and Victor can’t help but feel his cheeks burn whenever they’re focused on him. Hop greets Victor first, and even though no one will recognize them when Victor looks like a student and Hop hasn’t had a strong media presence for years, Hop remembers they’re in public and doesn’t pull him in for a kiss. 

Victor tries his best not to stare at Hop’s luscious lips, so he tries observing something else – Hop’s outfit. Victor feels a fire start within him when he notices that Hop’s wearing a light blue blazer. Professional, mature Hop makes Victor weak in the knees, but he’s never said anything about it, so why is Hop wearing this _now_? Black shirt, black pants, black shoes – and Victor’s hungry gaze darts all the way up back to Hop’s face.

“Checking me out, mate?” Hop teases from a few steps away. Victor wants to close the gap between them and bite Hop’s lips until they bleed.

“I missed you,” he admits instead, willing himself back. “Haven’t seen you in months.”

“I’m glad I can see you now,” Hop grins, a sultry, fiery look on his face. “You’re as lovely as ever.”

“And you’re handsome,” Victor coos. Surely his internal organs have turned to mush by now, and if they haven’t already, they will soon. Victor’s hands tremble when he’s under Hop’s fervent scrutiny. It doesn’t help that Victor’s just as starved as his boyfriend is – the two months spent without hearing his lover’s voice have been torturous.

“Shall we head to the aquarium?” Hop offers. _Don’t tremble, don’t tremble, don’t tremble,_ Victor chants in his head while reaching for Hop’s hand. When their fingers interlock, Victor finally relaxes.

“I’d love to.”

* * *

When they arrive, the aquarium is empty except for the staff. In the halcyon days of their youth, Victor remembers it being a bustling place, filled with families, couples, and classes on field trips – but now, the hushed, muted space is only occupied by various sea creatures. Apparently, after multiple cases of people breaking the aquarium glass with their Pokémon, Nessa closed it to the public. Victor doesn’t know how Hop’s able to waltz in like he owns the place, but he has a feeling it has something to do with Sonia and his apprenticeship. Truthfully, Victor appreciates it – appreciates being alone with Hop, appreciates the serenity, appreciates the way the glass reflects Hop’s stare as if Victor is Hop’s prey.

Victor can feel Hop watching his every move, and it’s becoming unbearable. Victor is looking, too: Hop’s skin is stained by the blue light in all the right ways. Sea-tinted Hop is orphic, playing divine tricks on Victor’s senses, tugging on his heartstrings and at the string of fate spiraling around them. Redamancy was a thing of dreams for Victor once, and now he can’t imagine living without Hop loving him. Hop is ethereal, sublime – and Victor can’t hold his feelings in when Hop’s eyes bubble with wonder. 

“Kiss me, right now,” Victor demands, lunging forward and balling his fists into Hop’s blazer. Hop’s expression flickers from surprise to love, and he leans down, meeting Victor’s lips in a gentle caress. Victor’s satiated for a moment before every part of his body blooms with blistering heat. Where their mouths meet, Victor feels a creeping, prickling sensation – overwhelming and addictive. They separate too quickly, and the loss of touch makes Victor’s heart curl in agony. Hop is careful not to take too much, but Victor wants to devour his boyfriend whole. With a firm grasp, Victor is leaning into Hop’s embrace, kissing him again.

“Easy, Vic,” Hop whispers, his voice bouncing off the glass walls and immersing Victor with the sound of his own name. “We’re in public.”

“No one’s here,” Victor replies boldly, bronze eyes glaucous and surging with desire. “These halls are empty. I haven’t been able to hold you for months.”

“Someone could walk in,” Hop retorts, voice hushed. He doesn’t push Victor off, though, instead resting his hands on Victor’s hips. He can feel Hop’s hands burning him through the fabric of his shirt. Victor presses a sloppy kiss to Hop’s jaw. New feelings are swimming in his gut, filled with something he can’t recognize.

“You’re so handsome,” he manages. The words in his throat won’t budge when he tries to voice them. Victor’s inexperience is evident when it comes to forming flowery language – lethologica overwhelms him; there’s no way to express the perfection that is Hop’s vivid soul. A halo of light embellishes Hop’s seraphic figure, empyrean yet human. Victor’s hands glide up, clutching Hop’s shoulders before Victor finally mumbles, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Hop reciprocates, voice still hushed. It feels loud against Victor’s skin, vibrations calling straight to his heart, which thrums bashfully in his chest. 

“It’s been too long since I heard your voice last,” Victor says, burying his face into Hop’s shoulder. “Call me more.”

“You know I can’t,” Hop groans. His hand slides up Victor’s back and runs through his hair. “I have to study for certifications.”

“I know,” Victor sighs. They spent one night sobbing together after Victor confessed, but they hadn’t even seen each other since. Just one night of kisses and cuddles and then sixty nights of estivation that leave him parched and desperate. They haven’t gone further than lip-to-lip contact, and Victor doesn’t know if he wants anything more than that. Still, his heart yearns for Hop.

“We’ll have time after,” Hop consoles him, pecking his forehead.

“You finish in three months, though. The same time the Challenger Cup begins,” Victor reminds him. 

“I’ve loved you my whole life. I can wait until it ends,” Hop says fondly. Patience is a virtue, but Victor’s restraint is decaying. Hop fills Victor’s life with memories and sweet nothings now, but tomorrow Victor will be back at work and Hop will be lightyears away.

“I can’t,” he half-whimpers. He digs his fingers into Hop’s back, afraid to ask for more.

“You can,” Hop whispers. “You’re the Champion.”

“Kiss me more,” Victor commands. Hop’s lips brush over his. It’s not nearly enough. Hop retreats too quickly, and Victor is greedy. “Again.”

“What’s gotten into you, Vic?” Hop chuckles nervously. 

“You don’t want to?” Victor’s chest is flush against Hop’s. Victor can feel the ground underneath them tremor and their surroundings begin to pulse. He’s suddenly aware of their closeness, how cold the air conditioning is, and the sensations under his skin that have begun to pierce through him. 

“No! I mean, yes!” Hop shakes his head, flustered. “I want to kiss you more, mate, but we’re not _alone_.”

“Then come to my hotel room,” Victor insists, practically begging at this point. “No one will bother us there.”

“Vic!” Hop sputters. Victor feels blood rush to his face.

“Not like _that,_ Hop, I didn’t mean it in that way,” he stammers, trying to step away. Hop yanks him back, hand on his waist. Victor groans, embarrassed. “I just wanna kiss you, _please._ ”

“We have reservations,” Hop huffs. “It’s already five and dinner is in an hour.”

“Then stay the night,” Victor pleads.

“I’ll think about it,” Hop smiles, releasing Victor. He turns around and starts walking into the next room. Victor trails after, still longing for Hop’s kisses. “Let’s look around more.”

“Please, Hop.”

“I said I’ll think about it.”

“ _Hop._ ”

* * *

Hop sits across from Victor, taunting him with the first few buttons of his shirt undone. It’s painful to see because Hop’s skin glistens slightly with sweat in the stuffy restaurant, accentuating his collarbone. Victor wants to lean over the table and plant kisses on Hop’s cheeks until Hop laughs and bats him away. Want is overwhelming and selfish, yet it fills the chambers of Victor’s heart. Candlelit Hop is temptation embodied.

Walking back takes forever, but for once, Victor is glad. Every moment he can spend with Hop is appreciated and important. He observes every part of Hop so he can remember it in the coming days. Hop’s looking at him too, and nothing feels better than the tension between them. When they arrive at the hotel, Hop finally gives Victor his decision.

“My room,” Hop hisses into Victor’s ear. 

The elevator ride up is dreadfully long. All Victor wants to do is throw his arms around Hop and kiss him until they’re both too tired to move. When they finally reach Hop’s floor, the doors inch open ever so slowly, and Victor wants to jam his hands in between them and force them apart. Hop’s grip on his wrist is tight and nerve-wracking. Victor’s resilience is falling apart at the seams by the time Hop fumbles with the key not once, not twice, but three times before the card reader turns green and Hop can drag Victor inside. He’s pressed against the door as soon as it closes behind him, and his heart is thundering so loudly, he knows Hop hears it. 

“Bloody hell, Vic,” Hop bristles with frustration. “Who gave you the right to be so attractive?” 

“I – should be saying the same thing to you,” Victor stumbles over his words. Hop’s eyes are alight with something Victor has never seen before and it’s making him ache. “Didn’t let me kiss you in the aquarium enough.”

“Had to hold back,” Hop grumbles. “You were making me want too much of you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Victor whispers. Hop doesn’t look convinced in the slightest.

“You probably would,” he responds.

“You didn’t ask,” Victor points out. Hop leans in for a kiss. And another. And another. Victor feels like his knees will give in at any moment. The hands on his shoulders move to his hips and start guiding him elsewhere. Victor lets Hop lead, trusting his boyfriend to be cautious for him. Hop’s touch suddenly vanishes, and Victor’s eyes flutter open. Hop slides his blazer off in one smooth movement and discards it on the floor, pushing Victor onto the bed. Hop hesitates.

“Can I kiss you with tongue?” he asks. Victor reaches for Hop’s collar and yanks him down. Hop nips at Victor’s bottom lip and delves into his mouth. Hop tastes like bergamot and mint, his tongue licking and swirling. Victor doesn’t know what to do in return, so he rolls his tongue around Hop’s until his lungs scream for air. A string of saliva connects them when Hop finally surfaces for breath.

“ _Hop_ ,” Victor whines, his voice frantic and weak. It comes out weird and foreign, but Hop looks at him like he’s the only thing like matters. He growls and plunges his tongue back down Victor’s throat, sending electric energy everywhere in the process. They separate again and Victor is already exhausted and aching. He touches Hop’s cheek and brushes his bangs to the side. “You’re amazing.”

“You’re so beautiful, I want to take you right now,” Hop states. Victor feels himself turn to putty, relaxing almost entirely under his boyfriend. 

“ _Take me,_ Hop, kiss me more, _please_ ,” Victor consents enthusiastically. Hop’s breaths are labored when he leans in for another kiss, tongue and all. Even without any experience, Victor can tell that Hop’s movements are skilled and thoughtful. Fingers dance over the back of Victor’s hand, placating his nerves.

“Vic, let’s make love,” Hop whispers against Victor’s lips. His eyes are so close and filled with adoration that Victor finds it difficult to return his stare. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

“Yes,” Victor murmurs, nibbling Hop’s bottom lip in his hazy state. “I’ve been wanting you for a while.”

This is Victor’s fantasy carved into existence, too vibrant and shameless to be a daydream. Hop palms at Victor’s crotch and hums gleefully when Victor squeaks unceremoniously into his mouth. He squeezes Victor’s inner thigh once and then strokes it. There’s nothing Victor wants more than Hop at this moment, and his body agrees. He can feel heat growing between his legs.

“Gonna take off your clothes,” Hop warns him. He doesn’t delay and tears off Victor’s shirt. With one finger, Hop trails from Victor’s lips to his belt. “Wonder what they’d say if I left marks all over you.”

“Why don’t you try it and see?” Victor smirks.

“I like the sound of that,” Hop grins, sinking teeth into Victor’s collarbone. It stings, but it’s amazingly arousing, sending Victor spiraling into uncharted territory. Hop licks at the area, and both of them know it will bruise brilliantly by the following morning. His hands move down to Victor’s chest. “Are you sensitive here?”

“I don’t know,” Victor replies in earnest. Hop blows gently on Victor’s nipples, which perk up a bit in response to the cool air. It tickles when Hop mouths at one, but nothing more. He shakes his head. “Don’t think so.”

“That’s fine,” Hop responds. “Maybe all you need is some conditioning.”

“Huh? _Oh,_ ” Victor squeezes his eyes shut when Hop applies force between his legs and sucks hard at his chest. “Feels weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?” Hop asks.

“It’s just weird,” Victor says. “I dunno. You can keep touching ‘em if you want.”

“Wanna make you feel good,” Hop mumbles. He’s already undoing Victor’s belt and throwing it to the side.

“Wait, take off your shirt,” Victor pouts. Hop pauses and starts fiddling with the shirt’s buttons, undoing each one slowly. By the time he’s halfway done, Victor grabs Hop’s hands and glares. “Stop teasing me.”

“Someone’s impatient,” Hop laughs, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders and tossing it to the ground. “We’ve got all night.”

“I want you now,” Victor grumbles, unbuttoning Hop’s pants. He struggles with the zipper for a few seconds, but eventually, Victor can pull it down. Before he slides Hop’s pants off, Hop grabs his wrists and pins them above his head.

“Wait a bit longer,” Hop beams devilishly. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Victor nods once and Hop lets go of his hands. He shoves down Victor’s pants and boxers in one go. Victor cowers under Hop’s lustful gaze as soon as he feels his dick set free. It slaps against his stomach with a wet noise. On the floor, their clothes are strewn about. Everything about this situation is intrinsically sinful and impure, but Victor remains unburdened underneath Hop. 

“Are you clean?” Hop asks. Victor inhales. It’s difficult to admit that he’s been thinking about Hop like this, but the other boy doesn’t judge.

“I cleaned myself earlier,” he whispers meekly. “Just in case.”

“That’s hot,” Hop smiles, kissing Victor again. He feels around the bed before groaning. “Fuck, I forgot about the lube.”

“There’s probably some in the nightstand,” Victor says. Hop leans over and pulls open the top drawer. One tiny bottle of brand-name lube sits on top of a gigantic, ancient-looking Bible. Hop unscrews the cap of the bottle. Luckily, it’s unopened. 

“Thank you, Arceus,” Hop chuckles, peeling off the seal. Victor rolls his eyes and nudges his boyfriend with his knee.

“Hurry up,” Victor groans. “I want you inside of me.”

Hop stares at him, eyes wide like they’re going to fall out of his head. “Seriously?”

“ _Yes,_ Hop. I want you to screw me as hard as you can.” 

“You’re going to regret saying that,” Hop says brightly. He nearly crushes the bottle in one hand, pouring lube onto his fingers. It’s an excessive amount, and when he presses one digit to Victor’s tight entrance, Victor yelps. The gel-like substance is freezing against his body. Hop kisses him and slides one finger in with ease. The feeling is at worst painful and at best uncomfortable, but he grits his teeth and tries not to force it out. Hop’s other fingers circle the area around his intrusion, spreading wetness so Victor doesn’t screech when Hop adds another. He doesn’t do anything yet, though, waiting for Victor to adjust. The concerned and loving way Hop looks at Victor makes him feel warm, but it’s not enough to distract him from the throbbing. 

For once, Victor is glad Hop’s patient with him. His boyfriend moves his finger in and out slowly, attentively, but Victor hisses and clenches down after just a few moments. That makes it worse, though, so Victor digs his nails into his palms and does his best to relax. Hop looks at him with worry, but Victor doesn’t stop him. Hop’s free hand brushes over Victor’s dick, which feeds into his arousal even more. Hop must see the momentary relief on Victor’s face, because he starts rubbing over the head of Victor’s soaked dick. It does something to him, clearly, because Hop fits another finger inside of him and it doesn’t ache half as much. Hop pulls his fingers apart, spreading Victor open while pumping him at the same time. Victor makes a guttural sound.

“Does that hurt?” Hop asks. 

“No,” Victor rasps, voice strained. There’s a ghost of a grin on Hop’s face and he presses deeper. Almost instantly, Victor can feel precum leaking out of him. “It… feels good.”

“You’re doing so well,” Hop encourages him. He slides another finger in and Victor whimpers instinctively, doing his best to keep his legs spread apart so Hop can access him. Hop stretches him open with just three fingers. He feels so vulnerable, so exposed, and when Hop licks his lips, Victor feels like he just might shatter. On his dick and inside of him, Hop’s hands are steady and strong. Hop presses at his walls, exploring his insides until Victor wails and his dick twitches. He covers his face with both hands in embarrassment, but Hop continues fingering him. He slides his fingers out and thrusts them back in, ramming directly into the same pleasure-inducing spot. Victor can’t stop the high-pitched moan that reverberates through the room. Satisfied, Hop removes his fingers while Victor is still shaking with an intense sensation.

“W-was that my…” Victor stammers. 

“Your prostate?” Hop answers. Victor nods.

“If I’d known it felt so good,” he gasps, “I would have searched for it earlier.”

“You’ve _never_ touched yourself there, and you wanted me to be _inside_ of you?” Hop raises an eyebrow.

“Just wanted… to feel you,” Victor mutters. Hop locks lips with him eagerly, their teeth clacking slightly. 

“Cute,” Hop growls, moving down his underwear just enough to let his dick pop out. Calling him well-hung would be an understatement – he’s so thick Victor doesn’t know if one hand will fit around the base of his cock, and for some reason, he’s also blessed with length. Victor gulps.

“Have you always been that big?” Victor laughs nervously as Hop lifts his hips. Hop hums in thought as he places one of the unused pillows under Victor.

“After puberty, probably,” he muses, lining his dick up with Victor’s hole. He’s leaking heavily and Victor can feel their fluids mix between his thighs. Fuck. Victor closes his eyes and thinks about all of the times they’ve bathed together – at least three happened on that vacation – and curses his past self for not checking. Even if Hop’s not as large when he’s flaccid, he’s bound to at least show some of his size, right? It’s unlikely, and he can’t think straight, and Hop’s pressing gently at Victor’s pucker, oh _Arceus._ Victor braces himself for pain that doesn’t come. Instead, Hop rubs in between his cheeks, sliding back and forth against him gently. He leans down and kisses Victor softly.

“Forgot a condom,” Hop moans into Victor’s mouth. “We can finish like this.”

“I want you raw,” Victor murmurs. “Don’t hold back.”

“Are you sure?” Hop asks, concerned.

“Yeah.” Victor’s hands slide down to the swell of his own ass. He’s so sure he wants Hop that he’s lost all doubt, and to show how much he wants Hop right now, Victor spreads himself open. Hop hisses and moves them away before he grips Victor’s hips and pulls him close.

“I’m gonna put it in,” Hop says.

Victor feels Hop’s dick nudge at him carefully, and then he slowly presses his hips forward into Victor. Victor shudders and mewls as Hop inches forward, bit by bit. His insides are so lubricated that he can’t feel any pain, and Hop’s leisurely pace frustrates Victor to no end. He looks down at himself, and even though Victor’s sure Hop’s almost all the way in, he’s hardly even halfway there. Shit. The way Hop’s dick presses against his insides is nothing short of corrupting, so warm and so sensual, swelling so much he can’t help but try to buck his hips. Hop holds him still as Victor struggles with the pleasure of something _filling him_. Hop isn’t even screwing his brains out and Victor’s body is already begging. 

“Hop, hurry,” Victor pants. “I need you, don’t hold back, _please_.”

Hop stops moving forward and slides out of him, leaving him empty. Victor writhes and sobs at the loss. “Love you when you beg like this,” Hop whispers into his ear. “Love you so much. Beg for me, Vic.”

“Hop, please,” Victor moans. “Fuck me, take me, I’m yours, I love you so much –”

 _Ah._ Hop slams into him once with no remorse and Victor’s mouth falls agape, voiceless. He can feel his legs tremble as Hop groans. Victor’s insides are wrapping around Hop’s dick, squeezing and pulsating, and if Victor wasn’t so blissed out by now he would be embarrassed by his body’s reactions. Hop’s sheathed inside him to the hilt when he glances down to check, and Victor feels so incredibly aroused. 

“Tight,” Hop grunts. Victor shudders at the sound of his lust-filled voice. Hop traces circles into Victor’s hips and kisses him again, thrusting in and out of him ever in a deliberately slow manner. Each time he pushes in, Victor can’t help but sigh quietly into their kiss. It’s so much, but it’s also not enough to satisfy him fully. 

“Don’t tease me, just screw me,” he begs, throwing his arms around Hop’s shoulders. “Faster – please – Hop, I need you!”

That does the trick. Hop starts moving faster and Victor chokes out moan after moan as Hop plunges in again and again. Victor can hear the obscene squelching that comes from their sex, and it turns him on to a degree he’s never felt before. Heat curls in his stomach and Victor screams Hop’s name so loud that their neighbors can probably hear. It becomes a chant for him, and as Hop rams him closer and closer to the edge, he can feel tears of pleasure welling up in his eyes. Hop moves one hand to jerk him off and Victor can feel his orgasm coming already.

“I’m close!” Victor cries. Hop mashes his lips with Victor’s before he bulldozes straight into Victor’s prostate. Victor moans into Hop’s mouth, wild and intimate. Hop keeps going, each penetration striking his sweet spot while he runs his thumb against Victor’s frenulum. Victor can’t feel better when he comes, splattering semen in between their stomachs with a weakened and satisfied groan. Hop rubs Victor’s prostate and his spent dick spasms in agonizing overdrive. He whimpers quietly.

“Not stopping,” Hop snarls, biting Victor’s lip until it bleeds. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t say anything but my name.”

“G-good,” Victor chokes out. He wants to feel Hop entirely until he can’t feel anymore. He wants to accept Hop’s cock until they meld together and become one. He wants to snivel as Hop melts his brain from the inside out. He’s so high on endorphins he can’t tell the difference from blistering pain and blooming pleasure, and he’s not sure he wants to when Hop is using his exhausted body like this.

“Love you,” Hop whispers. He runs his hand up Victor’s tender chest and fondles him. Victor feels his eyes roll back in his head. He’s had so many wet dreams about Hop but none of them are half as phenomenal as this. 

“Love you too,” Victor sniffs through tears. Hop slows down so he can focus on pressing butterfly kisses to Victor’s cheeks.

“You’re sucking me in when I pull out,” Hop coos quietly. “You feel so good around me, Vic. Wish you could see how handsome you are right now.”

Victor groans in response. His legs are numb and his half-erect dick feels so good it hurts. He’s becoming more and more aware of the cum on his chest, but he’s also uncomfortably conscious of how thick Hop is, how he spreads apart, and how deep he can feel the pleasure. Hop’s moving too slowly now, and Victor lets out a breathless “Fuck.”

“Something wrong?” Hop teases him, driving his dick only a few millimeters from Victor’s prostate. He can feel himself tighten around Hop, his own body trying to guide Hop toward the sensitive bundle of nerves against his own will. Of course, Hop denies Victor’s second release with nothing short of brutality. Hop takes his time with bringing himself to orgasm because he knows that Victor’s cock stiffen eventually and the pace will begin to make him go ballistic with desire.

“Hurry up and cum,” Victor groans, trying not to show how much he wants to impale himself on Hop’s dick. He’ll play it off as just wanting Hop to finish so that it can end. 

“I’m enjoying the view,” he smiles lazily, gazing down at Victor. “Unless… you want me to fuck you silly already?” Victor inhales sharply, and his dick betrays him with a slight twitch. He’s not fully hard, but the thing still works, and it’s unfair that it shows his persistent excitement so well.

“The cum is drying on my chest,” he lies. Hop leans over to the nightstand and cleans up the mess with a tissue. That didn’t work at all. 

“I’m not going to judge you if you want me to,” Hop laughs, planting a kiss on Victor’s neck.

“I want you to,” Victor gasps when Hop sucks hard on his skin. “Please.”

“Remember, you asked for it,” Hop whispers before he hoists Victor’s legs onto his shoulders and leans over, folding him in half. Victor lets out a squeak as his thighs press against his chest. Hop furrows his eyebrows in frustration. “Fuck, you look even better like this.”

Victor opens his mouth to argue at the same time Hop shoves his dick right into his prostate, and all that comes out is a strangled, porn-star esque moan. Hop’s fueled by Victor’s noises and starts pounding into him relentlessly. Hop’s thrusting makes wet, sloppy sounds that only get louder and hotter. And even as Victor squeals and moans with his jaw hanging open, Hop doesn’t let him take a break.

“Hop!” Victor screams. Post-orgasm tingles turn into a scorching-hot wave of rapture, and he feels his legs stiffen as his ass tries both to force Hop out and pull him in. He feels wetness running down his cheeks and he knows he’s crying, but it feels so good that he doesn’t understand why. He searches for words to explain, but all he can manage are combinations of “fuck,” “shit,” “feels good,” and primitive moans that pour out of his mouth like a waterfall. Hop is merciless, sinking into Victor with passion and pulling out only to submerge himself even deeper. Victor can’t feel anything except for the constant movement of Hop’s dick and the swell of his penis and the unyielding mixture of ambivalence swirling in the pit of his stomach. His vision is blurry and Hop’s just indigo and brown against the messy whites beneath them. He knows his refractory period should be at least fifteen to twenty minutes, he knows it hasn’t been that long, and yet – and yet –

Victor throws his head back, yelling Hop’s name as he orgasms violently, clamping down on his boyfriend with a broken sob. Nothing comes out, though – he can’t ejaculate, but Hop’s growling and _fuck_ , he’s going faster. Shit. Victor goes limp as Hop slams any of his remaining sanity out of him, and he can hear himself bawl against his own will.

“Sorry, Vic,” Hop pants, “just a little more, I’m almost there.”

Victor’s not sure what that means anymore because Hop is brushing against that spot inside of him, sending mind-shattering surges through his whole body. Victor tries forming sentences but no words come to mind, and instead all he can voice are wanton moans that sound vaguely like Hop’s name. With his tongue half-hanging out, though, neither of them can tell, because Victor’s open-mouthed mumbling is unintelligible. Hop slips out and Victor whines, thrusting himself back into Hop so that the tip pops back into him with a loud schlorping sound. 

“You’re so horny,” Hop teases.

“No! Fuck! Yes!” Victor shouts in reply, eagerly rocking up into Hop’s dick. Even slight movements send his head spinning, but it’s still not enough. Hop stares in shock while Victor squirms, shallowly humping him. “ _More, more, fill me, fuck!”_

Hop presses in a bit before sliding out again, holding Victor’s hips still. “Beg for me.”

“Please,” Victor whines, trying to break out of his grip. “Fill me up.”

“With what,” Hop hums, reaching for the bottle of lube to pour more unto himself.

“Your dick,” he gasps. “Fill me with your dick.”

“Mm, not that convincing,” Hop clicks his tongue, rubbing at Victor’s entrance. 

“Please!” Victor shouts. “Fuck me until I can’t move, Hop. Fill me with your dick, whatever you want, please, just put it inside me or I’m gonna burst!”

“That’s more like it,” Hop smiles. “You know, I’ve always imagined you like this. My best friend, the champion, beneath me, begging for me, thirsty for dick and so damn beautiful. I’m gonna make this last as long as I can.” He breaks Victor open again, forcing his cock deep inside. Victor lets out a long, euphoric mewl, flying into ecstasy. He’s much looser now, but it still feels like Hop is tearing him in two whenever he rushes in. Victor’s sense of self-preservation is gone, and the feeling of Hop’s gigantic cock is replacing it quite well. He feels his hips stutter back and Hop’s dick presses deeper, easing out his moans.

“Please, faster,” Victor urges in between Hop’s thrusts. “Need more.”

“Nah,” Hop pants. “Gonna fuck you slow and good, until you’re screaming and begging for it. Gonna make you want me so bad that when I’m finished with you, you’ll never forget.” Victor knows he’ll remember this moment in high definition, but he can’t respond with Hop’s dick jostling his most sensitive places. He’s never felt better in his life, and it’s all thanks to his boyfriend. Victor can feel himself grow stiff at the thought. 

“Love you, Hop,” he sings praises to his boyfriend, kissing and swaying together. Hop is gentle, pushing Victor through things he’s never endured before, delightful and dreamy and so amazing. “I think I can cum again.”

“Can you, now?” Hop grins. “Let’s try it out. I’m close, too.”

Hop’s movements turn erratic and Victor weeps at the physically taxing sensations. A few brisk snaps and he’s a dripping heap of sweat and musk. Hop coerces the orgasm out of him again and Victor rides waves of mishmashed, insufferable spindles of fire. Hop lets Victor repeat himself over and over as he toys with Victor’s gland. It feels like centuries have passed before Hop releases inside of him, a final “love you” panted out before he falls next to Victor on the bed, cuddling and pampering him.

“Fuck,” Victor groans. “That was good.”

“I enjoyed it too,” Hop returns, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Lemme do that to you next time,” Victor giggles.

“Woah, already thinking about next time?” Hop chuckles. “I’m tired already.”

“Me too,” Victor sighs. “It’ll hurt tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Hop whispers.

“It’s okay,” Victor says. “I liked it. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still debating on whether or not i want to separate the smut from the plot


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's quite mouthy: both when it comes to arguing for his beliefs and when he sees Hop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blowjob and bottom!hop in this chapter
> 
> mentions of past bede/hop and also economics. i hc that galar is fucked and leon's just trying to put everything back together.

Victor hates the ambivalence he feels whenever he plays the part of Champion.

The battles are amazing: he has a lot of fun when he fights the winner of the Challenger Cup. The pay is decent: Victor makes enough to be comfortable in Wyndon, which is much more expensive than Postwick to live in. Getting called to help out around the region? It's okay most of the time, but it’s not particularly his favorite part of the job. Unfortunately, none of the aforementioned items describe the worst parts of holding the Champion title.

The Gym Leaders are appalled by the sheer lack of freedom Victor has, but none of them have the power to do anything about it. Macro Cosmos is controlled by a board of directors, with Victor and Leon as their puppets. Even with Rose in jail, his political allies still manipulate the Champion figurehead. Now, Galar has no single political leader – just a bunch of billionaire assholes operating behind the scenes. 

Each outfit is tailored by a team of designers that do their best to portray “Champion Victor” as an interesting, capable young man. Every month, his manager screams at him for not wearing the designated pants at all, even though most of them are uncomfortably tight and have a very large hole only a centimeter from the crotch. Ripped jeans aren’t even in style – he’s pressured to wear them only because it’ll “accentuate” his behind. Forced to stand still while others flit around him, Victor loathes the cold hands that press and pose him like a ball-jointed doll. 

The social media presence of the Champion is controlled entirely by PR marketers, who post advertisements for travel, food, culture, and entertainment on his Chatter and Finstagram profiles. It’s not Victor, not really – he’s not allowed to manage a personal account. Instead, the MC Board of Directors has decreed that Victor must take “selfies” – which are actually taken by other people – and that he should pose in various environments for his “account brand.” Elaborate photoshoots are administered almost every other day for the sole purpose of manufactured identity – green screens, CGI, sponsorships of brands he doesn’t know all too well. 

“The MC Board of Directors believes it would be in your best interest, as Champion, to refrain from using Eternatus in the upcoming Challenger Cup,” one member says, adjusting his tie.

“Eternatus is a demonic beast that brought about the Darkest Day,” another man pipes up. “It would harm your image.”

“I don’t care about my image,” Victor says blandly. Eternatus has always been a vital part of his team, and he’s not going to remove her just because of some idiot who thinks that she’s going to murder everyone. He hasn’t in past years, and he doesn’t plan on changing his mind now.

“A champion should use _heroic_ Pokémon, not destructive ones,” one exclaims. 

“She was hurt and confused when she attacked,” Victor argues.

“People are saying that Eternatus is taking over your body and that your passion for battling is merely a display of murderous intent,” the man with a tie retorts. “And there are tabloids talking about a character that looks like you… romancing… another man in Hulbury. Do not forget: Eternatus is a messenger of the devil, and homosexuals are sinners.”

“They are not sinners,” Victor glares. “These are bad conspiracy theories.”

“We do not believe the recent rumors regarding your promiscuity to be true,” a woman adds, ignoring his comments, “but in the case that they are, we will have to step into your personal life. Regardless, we suggest that you begin a romantic relationship with one of our sponsors to stop the people from talking.”

“No,” Victor declines. “There’s nothing wrong with being gay, so I don’t mind.”

“It’s wrong if the _champion_ is gay,” the tie man hollers, slamming his fists onto the table. A dam in his mind bursts at the sound and fury rushes through, burying self-restraint among the muddy bottom of his mind. Victor can feel wrath sink its claws into his flesh, tearing at his imperfect facade.

“I don’t _want_ to be the champion!” Victor snaps at the man, baring his teeth. “But I can’t force others to deal with this in my place. If you don’t have anything important to say, then I’ll be taking my leave.”

The whole board goes silent when he storms out of the conference room.

* * *

“So, Champ,” Asshole Interviewer begins, “are you nervous for the Challenger Cup coming up?”

“Oh, yes. It’s natural to be nervous before big events such as the annual Challenger Cup,” Victor replies, plastering on a wide, practiced smile. His face aches and he’s still pissed about the board’s blatant homophobia. Interviews suck, but interviews taking place right after you’ve been called demon spawn suck even more.

“Any challengers you’re intrigued by?” Asshole Interviewer asks. “Who do you think will make it to the end?”

“I try not to be biased,” Victor chuckles softly. The truth is, he hasn’t been paying attention to any of the challengers. “I can’t say which ones will make it to the end either way.”

“What about your team?” 

Victor inhales. “Well, for starters, I’ve got my Cinderace.”

“How long have you been partners?”

“A little over five years?” Victor estimates. “She was my first Pokémon when I started my journey, and she’s always been a reliable one.”

“What about your other Pokémon?”

“I’m going to use some combination of Bisharp, Tsareena, Toxtricity, Hattrene, Rapidash, Appletun, Umbreon, and Cinderace. Of course, I might throw in Eternatus or Zacian too. Who knows?”

“How exciting!” Asshole Interviewer exclaims. He doesn’t seem too bad, actually. This is one of the better interviews today. It’s good to talk about his team because it’s not about something stupid or gossipy – just small talk about the championship.

“I can’t wait to experience the thrill of battle once more,” he recites.

“Speaking of thrilling,” Asshole Interviewer continues, “you’ve been rumored to go flying late at night! Do you have any lovers?”

“Not really,” Victor says, mentally wincing. That’s one way to ruin an interview. “I think my Pokémon deserve to experience the Wild Area every evening for health benefits.”

“What’s that bruise on your neck?” Asshole Interviewer asks, pointing with mock surprise. Victor almost slaps his neck to hide it, but he remembers that it’s banter just in time.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Victor huffs. “No premarital coitus here. I shall abstain until I perish.”

“You aren’t thinking of marriage?” Asshole Interviewer gasps. 

“Uh…” Victor pauses to ponder the thought. Hop’s eyes illuminate his mind. Marrying Hop? He hadn’t considered it. “Not yet, but in the future, I would like to settle down.”

“Oh?” Asshole Interviewer wiggles his eyebrows. “What’s your ideal partner like?”

“You mean, personality-wise?” Victor closes his eyes and thinks of all of Hop’s best characteristics. It’s the closest he’ll get to admitting how much he loves Hop to the general public, so the right words pour out freely. “On top of being considerate and hard-working, I think someone who brings adventure to my life would be nice. We could be friendly rivals and battle together when we’re bored. I would want them to be better than me at talking, too.”

“Why is that?” 

“I prefer to listen,” Victor shrugs. “I think voices tell a lot about who you are. It contributes a lot to first impressions, but it also can tell you a part of someone’s history.

“What about your ideal spouse’s appearance?”

Victor doesn’t know how to say “Hop” without actually saying “Hop.” Hop’s body is toned from daily workout sessions, but his studying hinders his muscle building. Victor doesn’t mind either way, because Hop is beautiful no matter what he does or how he looks. When Hop wears glasses, Victor wants to hug him and kiss him and melt all over him. 

“Uniquely colored hair is cool,” he says, thinking of Hop’s face. “Brown eyes are pretty. Body type isn’t too important for me, but I like it when they have strong arms. Probably because I like people who give good hugs. I think glasses and earrings are attractive, too.”

“Thank you for your time, Champ,” Asshole Interviewer says. “It looks like we have to wrap this up. What do you want to say to your fans?”

“Thank you for supporting me in these past five years,” Victor smiles, waving at the camera.

* * *

Victor, age 21, is late to Marnie’s birthday party.

Macro Cosmos hardly supports Marnie’s gym, and the board _hates_ it whenever he associates with the poor girl. So of course, they force him to work late and pile documents high onto his desk. Luckily, Victor finishes the paperwork an hour into Marnie’s celebration, which means he’ll get to Spikemuth one hour and thirty minutes late. 

But this year, Hop is there, which means that Victor can (maybe) talk about his relationship with Hop. It’s been four months since they began dating, one month since he saw Hop last, and zero seconds since Victor’s last thought about him. Hypothetically, this means that they will be dating for the foreseeable future. And _hypothetically_ , this means that Hop might be okay with telling the Gym Leaders (and perhaps Gloria, Leon, and Sonia).

Marnie’s twenty-first birthday party is held at one of Spikemuth’s local nightclubs. Victor triple-checks the location, but he swears it’s only because the winding alleys are difficult to navigate. Fortunately, he can hear one of Piers’s new hits playing live from five buildings away. The lights inside the club are dim enough to hide blemishes but bright enough to distinguish someone’s face. Gloria’s thick, drunken slurring is pouring from the bar area, and he follows the noise because it’s the only thing he knows. In the chaotic atmosphere, however, Victor finds himself swarmed by Combee-like characters who sway as if they’re Oricorio trying to attract mates. 

He slips away, grateful for his thin frame and underwhelming looks as he squeezes through air-tight openings between bodies. The bar seems so far away at this point – but eventually, he’s climbing onto the stool next to Marnie. Her jacket is half-falling off as Gloria tugs her arm, yowling crude statements that are so utterly _Gloria_. He taps Marnie on the shoulder when Gloria pipes down.

“Happy birthday, Marnie,” Victor says as the girl turns to him in recognition.

“Vic! You’re late,” she grins, giving him a side hug. She almost falls off of her stool, but Gloria manages to pull her back.

“Sorry,” he laughs, reaching into his bag. “I got you a present, though.”

“I told ya not to get me anything,” Marnie huffs, batting his arm playfully.

“Vic never listens,” Gloria mutters, glaring at her brother. He shoves the tiny black-and-gold box into Marnie’s hands anyway, and the smaller girl reluctantly accepts the gift.

“Open it,” he urges. “Hurry up so I can go bother Hop.”

Marnie sticks her tongue out and tears the wrapping paper off like a Zangoose mauling a Seviper. She slowly slides the cover open as Victor waits impatiently for her reaction. Her eyes grow wide. “Is this… a limited-time Hello Skitty and MoMo Morpeko collaboration keychain?”

“Do you like it?” Victor asks, hesitantly.

“Are you kiddin’ me? I love it, Vic,” she beams, holding it up in the air. The strobe lights make it hard to discern, but the character is in Hangry Mode on one side and Full Belly mode on the other. The metallic material refracts light in multiple directions, shining warped images onto the walls and floor. “Thanks, ‘fore I forget to say it.”

“Ouch, Vic! You never gave me anything for my birthday,” Gloria fake-sobs, wiping at invisible tears. 

“I don’t even know your birthday,” Victor laughs. “Do you know mine?”

“April 1st,” Gloria guesses, “because you’re a joke. Just kidding, I actually don’t know.”

“I’m February 19th.”

“Ooh, Pisces,” Gloria says. “I’m May 26. Gemini.”

“Your birthday was two months ago?” Victor makes a face of disgust. “Aren’t you, like, twenty-four now or something?”

“I’m twenty-three, thank you,” Gloria sniffs. “I’m not that much of a hag.”

“Don’t say that around Miss Opal,” Marnie reminds her. “She’ll sic Bede on you.”

“Speaking of Bede,” Gloria says, changing the topic, “have you said hi to him and Hop yet? They’re like, dancing or some shit. Can you believe that?”

Victor’s heart stops for a second. “Dancing?”

Bede and Hop dancing together is a thought. He doesn’t know whether the feeling in his stomach means it’s a good thought or a bad one, but it’s most likely a bad one. Hop doesn’t normally dance: even when they were younger, he wouldn’t be caught near a stage. Dancing means there’s a special event or a special person. Victor’s afraid where his mind will wander, so he stops it mid-analysis.

“They’ve been catching up all evening, which is unlike them,” Marnie says, taking a long sip of her beer. She stares at the drink in disappointment. “This tastes like Bewear crap.”

“How would you know what Bewear crap tastes like?” Gloria asks incredulously. Her nose wrinkles and she cringes visibly. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“Anyway, they’re over there,” Marnie gestures over her shoulder. Victor turns to look.

_Oh._

Bede and Hop are side-by-side, swaying together with fierce looks in their eyes. Hop looks like he wants to punch Bede until the other boy astral projects, and Bede looks like Hop’s personally offended him and his entire team for some inexplicable reason. Even though both of them are pissed, their bodies move together. The blond-haired boy’s hips gyrate with the music. Hop’s hands brush lightly against Bede’s as he turns around.

His chest tightens. “ _Not here, not now_ ,” Victor screams at himself. It’s useless already – he can feel his pulse quickening and the muscles in his legs tensing up, ready to take him anywhere but here. A bitter, lonely sensation boils and bursts in his chest, orbs of anxiety floating to the surface with a familiar throbbing. The vision of Hop and Bede punctures holes in the S.S. Victor, which capsizes and sinks into the green sea. Jealousy fills every corridor, every room; it corrodes the walls of his mind and haunts him with intrusive “what-ifs.” A cotton-candy colored figure flashes in his peripheral vision.

“Victor?”

He can’t tell if it’s Marnie’s voice or Gloria’s, because it sounds like _Hop’s_ , even though he knows it isn’t because _Hop is dancing with Bede_. Victor knows that they aren’t together, they’re just friends, there’s nothing more to it – but the loss of rationality comes too quick for him to resist the current of envy. His legs carry him out of the bar, out of the alleyways, and finally, out of Spikemuth. Victor’s malnourished from dietician recommendations, he’s running on two hours of sleep, he’s only awake because of those caffeine pills they give to students during exam week, and he hasn’t properly talked to anyone except for interviewers and the board and Leon for an entire month. His legs give in after his mind, and even though he’s not physically exhausted, Victor can’t find it in himself to take another step.

 _“Victor,”_ a voice echoes in his mind. _“Get up.”_

It’s Hatterene. She hovers over his sweaty, sobbing pile of flesh and stares down at him with some semblance of sympathy. She’s carrying his bag around her shoulder, and she’s worn out from chasing him, her hair frizzy and filled with leaves. Victor’s having difficulty breathing, but Hatterene’s never been good at comforting others. With an annoyed trill, she pulls out a few Poké Balls from his bag, calling Tsareena, Toxtricity, and Umbreon out.

 _“Victor!”_ Tsareena exclaims, nudging his arm with her leg. He’s too tired to respond, and he can’t even breathe properly, still wheezing to recover from the sudden exertion of energy.

 _“Is he dead?”_ Toxtricity asks, doing his best not to panic. Umbreon bounds over to Victor and gives him a gentle nuzzle, butting their heads together in a display of concern.

 _“I’m alive,”_ Victor wants to whisper. Nothing comes out. All he can do is wail and weep over a situation that isn’t even significant. Hop loves him, not Bede – why would it suddenly change? Even if each part of him believes everything is fine, Victor can’t help but splinter like old wood. His friends seem to understand his silence because they don’t press him for answers.

The quartet of Pokémon do their best to give him water, tissues, and a shoulder to cry on when he needs it, and after panicking for a solid twenty minutes, everything seems much better. He sets up a temporary camp, letting his Pokémon run free while he does his best to calm down. Cinderace, of course, rests by his side while the others play and sing. Bisharp stands a few paces away, watching over her girlfriend and her trainer. After a while, Victor can finally trace the stars – ignoring pre-existing constellations to create his own. Unfortunately, the tranquil night only lasts a moment, and Rotom starts buzzing in his backpack.

“Victor?” Marnie’s voice comes muffled from the receiver as Rotom struggles out of the zipped bag. Cinderace is the one who betrays him and opens the pocket so that Rotom can broadcast his post-crying face to his sister and her girlfriend.

“Hi,” he croaks, barely smiling. “Sorry for being dramatic on your birthday.”

“Fuck my birthday!” Marnie screeches, scowling. “Are you okay? What happened? Gloria and I are worried about you!”

“I got emotional when I saw Hop and Bede together,” Victor admits. It’s easier to say it out loud than he expects, luckily. “I think it’s jealousy.”

“You have a crush on Hop?” Gloria says, perking up. “Thought you’d never admit it. Fucking finally.”

“Well, it’s kinda obvious,” Marnie mumbles. She shakes her head and glares straight into the camera. “Anyway, you should come back ‘ere.”

“Yeah, Vic,” Gloria agrees, nodding her head violently. “Just talk to him. Like, start up a conversation about your crush on him. Ask him if he likes you back. Or if you’re too much of a wiener, you can just try to work out your feelsies with him.”

“What ‘feelsies?’” Victor asks.

“Y’know, your jealousy,” Marnie says. “Like what you just did a few seconds ago.”

“What did I do a few seconds ago?”

“You said you get jealous when you see Hop ‘n’ Bede,” she continues. “It’s not healthy to keep yer feelings in, mate, and if Hop’s causin’ your jealousy, then just tell him that. That’s how Glo and I don’t fight. Runnin’ away ain’t a healthy copin’ mechanism.”

“Is it that easy?” Victor sighs, frustrated. “What if he thinks I’m being childish?”

“For what? Feelin’ jealous?” Marnie snickers. “Nah, he’d get it. He gets jealous too.”

“Why would Hop be jealous?” Victor frowns. The girls share an indecipherable look. 

“Come talk to him and see,” Gloria says.

“Fine,” Victor relents.

* * *

Hatterene tells him she’s glad he doesn’t feel like shit anymore as he makes his way back into the labyrinth of streets, but she makes fun of him when he ends up on the same block three times in a row. “ _You’re turning into Leon,_ ” she laughs, “ _That Champion title must sap your intelligence._ ”

Victor’s glad that Pokémon aren’t allowed out of their balls in the nightclub. The rowdiest patrons have been kicked out, but there’s a slight stench of alcohol and cologne that wasn’t there earlier in the evening. Enough drunkards have been removed from the premises that he’s able to make his way toward Gloria and Marnie without any trouble. He halts his advance when he notices that the two aren’t just very close, but they’re making out on the barstools _with their tongues_. It’s mentally disturbing to see his sister smooching her girlfriend, so he does an about-face and starts searching for Hop instead.

On the dancefloor, he glimpses Bede’s platinum hair and forces himself to walk in the general direction of his friend. Hop and Bede are still standing together, but instead, they slowly sway to the rhythm. Bede actually spots him first and waves him over.

“Thought you’d never show, Victor,” Bede shouts over the music. Hop turns around and his eyes light up like fireworks. His passionate gleam is quenched quickly when he remembers where they are, and instead, Hop gives Victor a quick hug.

“Love ya,” Hop whispers, pressing his lips to Victor’s ear discreetly. Victor’s about to echo his sentiments when he pulls away. 

“Hey,” Victor says, embarrassed. “Sorry, got caught up talking to Marnie and Glo.”

“Hey, mate,” Hop replies like he hadn’t just _kissed_ Victor's ear amongst a shitload of people. “Missed ya.”

“Wanna dance with us?” Bede offers. Victor takes a deep breath.

“Actually, I wanted to ask Hop something,” he chuckles nervously. “Maybe after?”

Bede looks oddly upset for a split-second, and Victor’s almost sure he’s imagined it when the other man nods like everything is fine. “Sounds good to me.”

“Er, what did you wanna talk about?” Hop asks, voice raised in slight alarm.

“Can we go outside?”

With only a rushed bye to Bede, Hop reaches for Victor’s hand, holding it like it could slip out of Hop’s grasp at any second. His boyfriend elbows through the forest of bodies, disregarding their complaints as he charges through. His boyfriend’s palm is calloused, he notices as Hop gives his hand a tight squeeze. Hop leads them both away from the club and into an empty alley.

“What did you want to talk about?” Hop inquires, touching Victor’s cheek fondly. They’re pressed together in the tight space between buildings, obscured by cardboard boxes on both sides. Victor’s heart stirs slightly.

“You and Bede,” Victor murmurs, voice hushed. “What are you guys?”

“Vic, are you jealous?” Hop tilts his head slightly. Victor feels a familiar tingle in his cheeks, and Hop frowns, nuzzling him. “Bede and I aren’t anything anymore. We get along most of the time, but it’s nothing romantic. We didn’t even like each other when we were dating.”

“Why were you dating, then?” Victor wonders aloud. Hop gives him a remorseful look. 

“This might sound dumb, but I wanted to get rid of my feelings for you,” Hop admits. Victor feels a tiny pinch in his chest. Hop must feel it too, placing his hand over Victor's heart. “Honestly, I didn’t think… you’d ever like me. Bede… didn’t think the person he liked would like him. When I tried to forget my feelings, I couldn’t. I couldn’t love anyone but you.”

“ _Arceus_ , Hop,” Victor whispers, mustering back tears he hadn’t known existed. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Hop responds, kissing him again. “I’m sorry for not telling you about Bede and me earlier.”

“You don’t have to tell me everything. I was just jealous because you two were dancing together, and I feel like a fool,” he groans, resting his chin on Hop’s shoulder.

“It’s okay to be jealous,” Hop coos, rubbing Victor’s back. When Victor pulls away, something on Hop’s earlobe shimmers. He brushes Hop’s hair aside – an earring?

“When did you get this?” Victor asks, touching the tiny silver stud. It looks good on Hop, as everything does, but it’s unexpected. For some reason, it’s alluring; paired with Hop’s tactful eyeliner, it makes Victor feel warm in all the right ways.

“Oh, these?” Hop grins, showing Victor the other side. “I wanted to get them done for a while, but I wasn’t sure. Then, I got really jealous while watching that interview of yours, so I impulsively went to a shop and got them done.”

“They look good,” Victor whispers, thumbing over one earring. “It suits you.”

“I got a dick piercing too, wanna see?” Hop smirks mischievously, tugging at his waistband.

“I’d love to,” Victor says, a little _too_ enthusiastically. Hop looks surprised but pleased, his lips curling up into a smile. 

“I was kidding about the piercing, but if you wanna look at my dick _that_ badly, I’d be happy to oblige,” Hop laughs, pulling him closer.

“Really, now?” Victor muses, trailing a hand down Hop’s chest. “What if I took you up on that offer?”

Hop lets Victor lean into another kiss, opening his mouth to taste his lover. Hop tastes like cherry soda and alcoholic beverages; his splendid lips moving in time with Victor’s. They roam each other’s mouths, submerged in their lust. Each quiet moment, each wordless sigh – everything is shared; their mingling feelings conveyed by the lack of space between them. Victor takes the initiative, dipping his hands under Hop’s shirt. The longer he spends amorously embracing Hop, the more Victor loses himself. His lips are an aphrodisiac, Victor swears, sedating and seductive. 

“Taking initiative?” Hop mutters in between breaths, eyes lidded with love. “I like this part of you.”

Victor raises Hop’s shirt slightly, exposing his abdomen. He’s seen Hop shirtless before, but he’s never really appreciated how amazing his boyfriend’s body looks. Victor knows he exercises daily to retain a six-pack, but he wishes he had Hop’s ability to put on so much muscle with so little effort. Victor slowly sinks down, pressing kisses to Hop’s stomach as he slips to his knees. He places both hands on Hop’s bulge, pausing only to glance up.

“May I?” Victor requests, hands drifting over Hop’s legs. Hop nods, letting his hands meander through Victor’s hair. Victor quickly unzips his pants – massaging Hop through his underwear. The hands in his hair twist slightly as Hop quietly moans. At the tip of his prominence, Hop’s boxers grow wet as Victor paws at him. Victor pulls the fabric down abruptly, and Hop’s dick bounces out, hitting Victor in the nose. He yelps in shock.

“Sorry,” Hop says. Victor ignores his apology and focuses on how he’s going to fit Hop into his mouth, grasping his base in one hand and giving it a test lick. It’s slightly salty and it doesn’t taste bad, so Victor kisses the area just beneath the head of Hop’s cock. His boyfriend chuckles quietly as Victor kisses it again, this time wetting it with his tongue. Victor’s not sure he’s prepared, but the hands gently stroking his hair encourage him enough to continue.

Victor takes the tip in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. The combination of Hop’s precum and Victor’s saliva is enough to coat what Victor can fit in his mouth without gagging, but Victor wants more. Hop is relatively large, so Victor does his best to cover his entire cock with enough to help it go down a little easier. When Victor’s satisfied with the amount, he stuffs his mouth until he knows he’ll gag if he goes any further, which still leaves most of Hop’s dick unsheathed. He uses his hand to rub the exposed area as he bobs his head a few times before Hop bucks into him without warning. His throat tightens and he lets out a strained choke.

“Are you okay?” Hop asks, voice filled with panic. Victor can’t answer with Hop’s cock in his mouth, so he doesn’t, instead shoving it deeper inside. He can feel his throat contract as it tries to force Hop out, but he doesn’t stop. The saliva in his mouth wells up so much that he has to swallow it, which eases his gag reflex for a moment. It’s difficult to breathe, but Victor does his best to inhale through his nose. With teary eyes, Victor swallows hard once and shoves his head forward, burying his face into Hop’s purple pubic hair. His boyfriend groans in delight, gripping Victor’s head. “Fuck, Vic _,_ the way your throat tightens around my cock is perfect.”

Victor slobbers around Hop’s dick, sending vibrations through it unwittingly. Hop hisses as Victor moves back, panting as the drool drips down his chin. After taking a few seconds to breathe, Victor finally speaks.

“Skullfuck me, Hop,” Victor gasps, looking up at his boyfriend. “I wanna drink your cum.”

That’s enough for Hop to ram his dick all the way into Victor’s maw without warning. Victor’s throat spasms at the ruthless penetration, and as he yelps in surprise, Hop bites his lip, growling again. Victor’s helpless whines and Hop’s quiet grunts fill the silent alley, and the chatter of people can be heard from the opposite side of the cardboard boxes. It’s distant, but for Victor, it’s thrilling – somehow, when he’s this aroused, getting caught seems ten times more appealing. If someone finds them here, cock in Victor’s mouth as he’s hard and submissive, then people will know he’s Hop’s and only Hop’s. Somehow, the thought urges him on – quiet noises pouring from between his lips.

“You’re so cute like this,” Hop praises him, gently caressing his cheek. He can’t tell if he’s tasting precum or tears at this point. For not being touched at all, Victor is incredibly horny as well, close to bursting in his own pants. It’s absurd how much Victor wants to get fucked and fuck Hop at the same time. 

As Hop gets louder and the grip on his hair gets stronger, Victor can tell he’s close to orgasm. One last thrust and a fulfilled sigh later, Hop is shooting ropes of scalding cum down Victor’s throat. He does his best to swallow it all, but with no warning, he can’t do much as he chokes on Hop’s semen, which floods his mouth and spills onto the ground. 

“Fuck, you were so good,” Hop huffs as Victor slowly stands up, his eyes fixed on Victor’s boner. “Do you need some help there?”

Victor glances down just as Hop pulls out the bottle of lube from the hotel. “Didn’t you just cum?”

“You said last time you wanted to do it,” Hop shrugs, handing him the bottle. “Oh, and this time I have a condom. I brought it just in case.”

Victor holds the bottle in his hands, turning it around. “Uh, what do I…?”

“You put lube on your fingers,” Hop says, squirting it onto Victor’s hand, “and you put your fingers inside me. Gently, of course.”

“That’s not very descriptive,” Victor mumbles as Hop leans down, exposing himself. While pressing his ring finger to Hop’s entrance, Victor feels his nerves fizz violently, but he slides in with a bit of pressure. The lube is cold, but Hop’s insides feel like an oven. He doesn’t complain or cry when Victor moves, and when he adds a second finger, there’s only a gleeful groan. “Am I doing this right?”

“Yeah, it feels – good,” Hop puffs. “But I can tell you’re nervous. Do you want me to guide you?”

“Yeah,” Victor responds, voice airy and light. Hop sucks on his fingers, drenching them with drool. Victor almost complains that it’s _dirty_ when Hop slips a knuckle into himself while Victor’s still pumping his fingers in and out, but there’s nothing clean about fucking in an alleyway. Hop stretches himself with dexterity, nudging Victor’s hand into his prostate. He groans when Victor’s fingers brush against the area inside him, loosening up considerably. Victor can insert a third finger, which makes the total digits inside of Hop _four_ , and he prods at the sensitive spot until Hop is a mewling mess. At this point, Hop’s interior feels like magma, engulfing Victor’s fingers as if he’s going to liquefy them.

“Hurry up,” Hop demands, panting, “people are gonna start wondering where we are.”

“Are you loose enough? Won’t it hurt?” Victor asks, undoing his pants anyway. Hop turns to face him, brandishing the condom from his pocket. He shimmies one pant leg off, wrapping his limb around Victor’s waist. With a snapping noise, Hop’s properly placed the plastic around his boyfriend’s penis. Hop guides his hands over the latex, dampening it sufficiently.

“I’m pretty loose already,” Hop laughs, slipping Victor’s dick inside of himself with a loud, shameless moan. “I think about you too often like this.”

“That’s sexy,” Victor titters, slowly moving deeper into Hop’s ass. His walls feel like leather or velvet – similar to the insides of his mouth. Everything about their position feels so right as Hop turns to jelly in his arms, squealing every sinful thought he can think of. It’s enthralling whenever Hop moistens his lips; it’s seductive in a spellbinding way. Hop cranes up when Victor nibbles just above his neckline, careening his hips into Victor.

“Love you,” Hop says, relishing each bolt of pleasure that hurtles through him. He runs his hands through Victor’s hair, again and again, singing praises despite his boyfriend’s inexperience.

“I love you too,” Victor professes into Hop’s skin, repeating his words with his tongue. It’s surprising how welcoming Hop’s insides feel, encompassing him. Nothing feels better than Hop’s angelic body; nothing looks better than Hop’s inviting eyes and his messy smile. It’s love that drives Victor to the edge, stimulating his heart and his soul as he cums buried in Hop. 

“You did so well,” Hop breathes as Victor pulls out, still half-hard but slowly shrinking. Both of them are sticky and sweaty as they divide, lingering connections splicing reluctantly. Neither wants to stop, but it’s inevitable that they’ll separate – Hop’s knees are buckling and Victor’s emotions are swirling. The faint smile on Hop’s burnt-out face is indelible, and Victor commits each of his boyfriend's features in his memory.

The clean-up is spent in silence – Victor ties shut the condom and wraps it in tissues to throw away in a trash can later, and Hop wipes down the grosser parts of Victor’s body, the ones caked in cum and saliva from their earlier interaction. They share a kiss before they depart together, stumbling toward the nightclub while hanging off each other. The way Marnie looks at him when they walk past is knowing, and Victor wants to shrivel up in humiliation. She doesn’t say anything, and Victor gratefully smiles at her as they make their way back onto the dancefloor.

“Hop! Victor!” a familiar voice booms. Standing next to an annoyed-looking Bede is a drunken Leon, obnoxiously overemphasizing his greeting with a wide wave. The fairy-type gym leader looks like he’s going to go deaf, one hand over his ear and giving Leon the stink-eye. Hop dashes up to his brother, pulling him into a hug.

“Lee! You came!” Hop cheers. He doesn’t notice how Leon’s gaze bores through him, staring soullessly past the couple. Leon’s dry, chapped lips and the faint bags under his eyes are badly covered up by cheap concealer as if they were applied by shaky hands. Victor doesn’t say anything about their matching exhaustive states – the board has been stretching Leon thin too. He nearly wishes Leon hadn’t shown up so he didn’t have to remember the frustration, but he wrestles that thought down.

“Hey,” Victor says, nodding once at both Bede and Leon. He probably smells foul right now, so he doesn’t reach for either of them. “How have you been, Leon?”

“Good, mostly,” Leon replies, gulping down whatever’s in his flask. “Vic, you know anything about the stock exchange?”

“He’s been pestering me about what I know since you two left,” Bede deadpans, face scrunching up. “Why is it so important, anyway?”

Leon shrugs. “Rose was fond of you before the incident, and you said he taught you about stocks, so…”

“I’ve been doing my own stocks since I was thirteen,” Bede rolls his eyes. “This guy seems to think it’s a big deal.”

“I don’t really know anything about stocks,” Victor says. He really doesn’t. Leon rubs his chin out of habit, looking puzzled. “Are you looking to invest in a business?”

“Kind of,” Leon says, looking constipated with how much he furrows his brow. Hop pokes at his arm.

“Don’t you already get a huge salary?” Hop speculates. “Being the new chairman sounds like it pays a lot.”

Leon looks at Victor expectantly, and suddenly, everything clicks. Even though Leon inherited the chairman position and owns a good 20% of Macro Cosmos, the board controls 35% of the company, and Victor only has a measly 3% investment in comparison to both parties. Victor knows Leon’s been searching for a way to kick the board out for disapproving of Leon’s desire to go public with Raihan, and the most logical conclusion is to buy them out entirely.

“I mean, he's getting an upper-middle-class wage,” Victor explains. The gears in his head begin to turn. If Leon can find a way to amount more shares, then he can effectively overrule the board on all of their crappy commands. “Isn’t Gordie good at this?”

“Good?” Bede guffaws. “He isn’t just _good_ at managing stocks. If he wasn’t such a popular leader, he’d be an insane negotiator and stockbroker.”

Leon lights up. “Is he here tonight?”

“Of course I’m here,” a voice calls behind Leon. The man whips his head toward Gordie, who’s stirring his fruity drink. “Circhester is right there, why would I not be?”

“Sweet,” Leon says. “Let’s talk about the laissez-faire economy.”

“Laissez-what?” Hop repeats.

“We don’t have a government, so it’s technically _not_ the government’s fault,” Bede corrects Leon, but he’s already trotting off. He huffs. “It’s not laissez-faire if there’s no government to step in, anyway.”

“We don’t have a government? Who the fuck controls the police, then?” Hop recoils in fear.

“Macro Cosmos controls everything, technically,” Victor says. “They were such a monopolizing force that they destroyed the government like, fifteen years ago.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Hop panics.

“Guess I’m just demoralized. It’s been five years and I’m exhausted.”

“Galar really only started falling apart four years ago,” Bede adds nonchalantly. “Rose was everyone’s leader, and after Eternatus, Leon was his surrogate. As Champion in any other region, Victor would have led us, but…”

“He can't because of the broken system,” Hop finishes, patting Victor on the back. “It sounds tough. I'm here if you need me.”

“It’s fine,” Victor lies through his teeth.

When he looks back, Hop's smile is paired with worried eyes. Victor glances away, and in a flash, the night is ending, and Hop has to go back to Postwick. He's gone without a goodnight kiss, wordlessly slipping out of Victor's shaky embrace. The train pulls in and Hop looks back at him, eyes fondly whispering, "I love you."

" _Parting has never been this painful_ ," he thinks, watching Hop step into the train car. As the train creaks past him, the breeze rustles his hair – ghosts of Hop's hands, loving and wondrous. He takes a deep breath and calls out Corviknight.

It's time to head back to Wyndon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self-esteem, the idea of going public, and first fights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter explores victor's dynamic with his pokémon. it's up to your imagination how you interpret the dialogue. if you want to think victor is having a conversation w/ himself and pretending that his pokémon are saying it, then go for it. if you think that they sign to him, go for it. telepathy? yes. it's all acceptable explanations. all you need to know is that victor talks to his pokémon and no one can convince me otherwise
> 
> note: no sex in this chapter. i was too depressed to write smut and it wasn't planned on being a smutty chapter anyway lma o

The mover Machamps are not only brawny, but their swift walking pace helps get the job done quickly. They fill Victor’s new residence with furniture, heaving heavy items and appliances into hard-to-access places. Tidying up behind the Machamps are a pair of Indeedees, who flatten the empty boxes left lying on the floor. Victor’s grateful for their help, and within half an hour, the Pokémon are already piling into the truck and zooming away. 

Behind him, Cinderace hurtles up and down the stairs, skipping every other step with its strong legs. Tsareena looks like she’s about to knock the living daylights out of Cinderace, but Bisharp’s sinister glare stops her mid-kick. The rabbit Pokémon is clueless until Bisharp whacks Tsareena upside her head, and even then, she doesn’t seem too concerned.

“ _Bisharp, don’t hurt Tsareena,_ ” she sighs, shaking her head. Her ears flop around as she leaps down ten steps at once, landing with a surprisingly graceful thud. Victor lets his Pokémon roam the new house, and surprisingly, everyone fits except for Eternatus, who nests in the backyard. Zacian’s cobalt blue coat catches the light as she changes into her Crowned Form, wrapping her sword into her mane. Outside, Eternatus stretches her spiny body, twisting and roaring.

“What do you think of this area?” Victor asks Zacian, who plops onto the floor without delay. She looks southwest and howls, her eerie call carried through the open windows by the suddenly stirring wind. Satisfied, Zacian crosses her paws.

“ _My brother can hear me from here,_ ” she says. “ _It’s near our home, isn’t it?_ ”

“The weald?”

Zacian nods slowly. Victor pulls open the map on Rotom, showing her the screen.

“We’re now living on the outskirts of the Wild Area, just outside of Wedgehurst,” he says, connecting their location to the forest, “and your home is here.” 

“ _Did you pick this to be close to Hop?_ ”

Victor closes his eyes. He’d be lying if he told her no – Hop hasn’t called him at all. His boyfriend only sends one-word texts wishing him good morning and goodnight, and even though Victor gets excited whenever he hears Hop’s special ringtone, checking his phone after hearing a wind chime has actually brought him more disappointment than glee. It’s gotten to the point where neither has said “I love you” since Marnie’s birthday, and the thought of Hop losing feelings for him makes his heart twist and throb.

“I don’t know,” he replies honestly, stroking her fur. “I don’t know if I can handle being Galar Champion any longer, either.”

Her yellow eyes seem to glow in protest. “ _You love battling, don’t you?_ ”

“I do, but being a champion isn’t all about battling. If it was that simple, I could spend all my time loving Hop.”

“ _Why don’t you?_ ” Zacian asks. “ _They can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do._ ”

“I’ll get fired.”

“ _And who would replace you?_ ” she snorts. “ _There’s no one who can beat you in this entire region, and there aren’t any current candidates for the championship._ ”

Zacian’s right, but Victor can’t help but feel like it’s not that simple. “So what are you saying?”

“ _You keep complaining to Cindy – Cinderace – about those stylists and how they keep firing and rehiring people._ ”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“ _If they’re getting_ fired, _then they probably don’t have authority in the company. You can just fire whoever you dislike: your PR team, your outfitters, your dietician, your hairstylist, the makeup specialist, the sponsorship manager, and that fake dermatologist._ ”

“How do you even know all of this?” Victor asks, startled. 

“ _I can hear your conversations through my capsule. They aren’t soundproofed,_ ” Zacian explains.

“Oh.”

“ _And since we’re on that topic… please do not bring your bag with you if you’re going to do what you did a few weeks ago. I heard it all, and I do not want to imagine what was happening there._ ”

Victor feels the blood drain from his face in a mixture of horror and mortification. Zacian, a legendary beast, heard him fuck his boyfriend – oh _Arceus_ , no. That means – _Zamazenta_ probably heard them having sex too.

“I’m so, _so_ sorry, Zacian,” Victor groans, burying his head into his hands. “I have no excuses for you. It won’t happen again.”

“ _Ah, young love,_ ” she teases. 

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“ _It’s fine, Victor. You would be more embarrassed if you found out later._ ”

The rest of his day is spent organizing his room, avoiding his anxious thoughts. Victor isn’t sure he can face Zamazenta should he ever battle Hop again, and Zacian just snickers whenever they make eye contact. Victor can’t focus when Hop pollutes his life, a figure appearing only for a split second until it disintegrates. Zacian listens to his qualms and his complaints regarding his long-distance relationship. Unfortunately, even fabled wolves have to rest, so Victor approaches Cinderace as Bisharp dozes off on the couch.

“Can I ask you something?” Victor says, sitting next to his starter Pokémon. She turns toward him and cocks her head.

“ _Sure,”_ she says. “ _What do you want to talk about?_ ” 

“Do you think it’s sad that I talk to my Pokémon instead of people?”

Cinderace’s nose twitches as she ponders his question. “ _No. Do you?_ ”

“I get lonely,” he admits.

“ _I can tell,_ ” she says. “ _You talk about Hop all of the time. And you ask me questions.”_

“I like Hop.”

“ _I know._ ”

“He never calls, and his texts are so short.”

“ _You only message him when it’s two in the morning._ ”

She makes a good point. Victor lets his head fall into his hands, covering his eyes in frustration. Hop needs to sleep, but Victor gets off work at midnight, spamming him with hearts and stickers. He’s only been thinking of his own schedule and not Hop’s – he probably wakes Hop up in the middle of the night consistently, and he groans into his palms.

“Should I apologize? What should I do?” he asks. Cinderace frowns, hugging him.

“ _I don’t know how human relationships work._ ”

“I don’t either.”

“ _Maybe you should tell him about how hard they work you. Maybe he’ll understand why you want to call him so late at night._ ”

“Do you think he misses me too?”

“ _Probably,_ ” she says. “ _He loves you._ ”

“I miss him,” Victor sobs into Cinderace’s coat. She awkwardly pats him on the back with her paw.

“ _Sorry,”_ she says. “ _I don’t know how to comfort you._ ”

“Don’t apologize for things that are out of your control,” he whispers. Already, the tears are running down his face. Cinderace lugs him up the stairs and tucks him into bed. She’s a motherly Pokémon, always babying her friends and her trainer. Victor feels guilty for his emotional reliance on his team – but none of them ever complain. Instead of saying thank you, he sends them into battle where they fight until they thrash in pain, clutching at their injuries. Yet they’re the ones saying “sorry” to him – even though they don’t owe him a single thing. Nothing feels worse than being cared for by creatures you’re supposed to protect and nurture, and yet, he’s laying in bed, moping and wailing like a helpless child.

As he drifts into sleep, all he can see are Hop’s eyes gazing back at him.

* * *

“Leon, can I ask you for some advice?” 

Of course, the ex-champion is startled at his sudden change in tone after their battle. Victor has only requested his help once before, but Leon’s always happy to help a friend. After recalling his fainted Charizard, Leon cradles its ball in his hand, pocketing the orange lizard before he responds to Victor’s question.

“Is this about Hop again?” he asks as the ground rumbles beneath their feet. 

“Did Hop tell you anything?”

“No,” Leon replies, cackling, “but only one person can make the Champion so upset that he Dynamaxes his Pokémon on the first turn and obliterates me.”

Victor hadn’t even realized. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. What did you want to talk about?”

“How did you handle loneliness when you were the Champion?”

Leon slams the stop button on the controller abruptly, and the elevator screeches to a halt. Victor flinches when Leon turns to him, eyes crackling with anger and guilt. His face isn’t one of a knowing adult – it’s one of crushed dreams and youth tied off too quickly. Victor notices his long purple hair is matted and splitting at the ends, unkempt and poorly taken care of. Settled in a messy braid that goes down to his back, Leon’s just ignored it for the past few years. Now, Victor realizes there’s nothing about Leon’s disoriented state that screams “helpful,” but he’s the only person that’s ever experienced what Victor’s gone through – so he bears with it.

“I didn’t,” he mutters. “I was alone, too. I left Hop alone.”

Leon massages his temples in frustration, trying his best to calm down. Victor wants to hug him and ask how he can help – but Leon’s already continuing.

“I felt like Raihan could take my pain away. I talked about how I was lonely in our texts, and he was my main source of relief during that time. Looking back on it, I realize it wasn’t healthy to rely so much on him. I mean, you should have a strong support system,” he suggests. “But if one person is causing you loneliness, then you should talk to them. Call them or something.”

“If I want to see them in person, what should I do?” Victor asks, desperation growing in his voice.

“Honestly? Play hooky,” Leon says. Victor blinks, unamused.

“Please be serious.”

“I’ll cover for you.”

“What?”

“I’ll be your alibi. Go visit Hop tomorrow,” Leon says, flipping a switch on a small remote. The elevator begins its descent.

“Thank you,” Victor says. 

Leon grins at him, eyes glinting in knowing.

“What?”

“So it was Hop,” Leon laughs.

“Who else would it be?” Victor blushes, glancing at his phone. Leon shrugs, rubbing at the nape of his neck. 

“Well,” Leon says, pressing his lips into a thin line, “there is someone. I always assumed it was a one-sided thing, though.”

“Who? Actually, don’t tell me,” Victor says, changing his mind. “I don’t want to deal with more than one person’s feelings at once.”

“I won’t,” he promises. “Just say hi to my brother for me.”

The way Leon looks to the south makes Victor’s heart twist in recognition. It’s familiar but foreign with Leon’s features – it’s the way Zacian stares into the wind, eyes soulless and empty, on the coldest Galarian nights. It’s the way Victor sees himself in the mirror – image warped and unrecognizably “Victor.” It’s the way Hop’s eyes trail after him whenever they’re ripped apart, silently resigned to his fate.

Victor won’t be condemned to isolation this time.

* * *

When Victor arrives at the lab in Wedgehurst, his fingers are numb from gripping onto Corviknight’s steel wings. The door swings open just as he raises his hand to knock, and Sonia’s standing there, holding a tiny plastic bag that’s knotted at the top. Victor says he’s looking for Hop, and she tells him that she doesn’t know, shooing him away. He runs back to Postwick to check if his boyfriend is home. This time, Hop greets him at the door, and when he realizes that it’s _Victor_ , his mouth falls open in shock. 

“What are you doing here?” Hop asks, inviting him inside. The living room and kitchen areas are immersed in darkness, with the only illumination provided by lights lining the stairs.

“I came to talk,” Victor says earnestly. His boyfriend takes his hand and leads him to his bedroom. Hop’s house is oddly silent – empty except for the two of them. It’s uncomfortable without the sound of the radio downstairs and the voices of Hop’s mother and grandfather. Papers and textbooks are scattered on the floor, and Victor makes sure not to accidentally step on any. They sit on Hop’s bed together, which creaks underneath their weight.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Hop whispers, kissing him fondly. “Sorry about the mess.”

“It’s fine,” Victor says. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”

“Have you now?” Hop says, raising his eyebrows in amusement. “Tell me more.”

“I want to go public with you, Hop,” Victor says, grabbing both of Hop’s hands. “Please consider it.”

“What?” Hop’s eyes boggle. “You’re _champion_ , Vic, there’s gonna be so much backlash. They know who we are and where I live – we’ll get harassed – there will be so many interviewers – not even Raihan and Leon are out – _Vic_.”

“Yes?”

“Stop looking at me like that,” Hop says, turning away. Victor’s eyes are wide and glossy and _wanting_ , and Hop hates it when Victor cries. 

“We could just tell the leaders,” Victor suggests, voice cracking. He knows why Hop doesn’t want to tell everyone – and he should be okay with that – but Victor wants more. Victor doesn’t just want Hop – he wants everyone to know that Hop is his and that he is Hop’s. In more ways than one, Victor has become more selfish than he’s intended.

“I don’t think I want to,” Hop says, shaking his head. Fragmented parts of his vision stretch and distort at Hop’s words – what would make him so averse to opening up? 

“Just the leaders,” Victor repeats. “Please.”

“It would hurt… us,” Hop says, hesitantly. Whispers in his mind take over, and his thoughts are seething with suspicions that seem to grow truer with each of Hop’s words.

“Is this about Bede?” Victor asks. Hop freezes, guilt seeping into his expression. Victor’s afraid to say more – afraid to press harder and accidentally make everything crumble.

“I don’t like Bede,” Hop says. “He doesn’t like me. But if he finds out, I’m worried he’ll…”

“He’ll what?”

“He’ll tease me about it and I _hate_ it when he laughs at me.”

It’s a terrible excuse, and both of them know that. Victor’s brain argues with his heart, screaming, _he’s not telling you the truth because he doesn’t love you_. But everything Hop’s said and done wouldn’t resonate so loudly in Victor’s life if he hadn’t loved him, and his gut tells him _there’s a reason he won’t tell you, and it might hurt you if you find out_. Somehow, both thoughts scare him – but the first is scarier, so Victor has to settle for the second.

“Okay,” Victor says quietly, accepting Hop’s explanation. “I won’t push you.”

“I’m sorry,” Hop says.

“It’s a decision we should make together,” Victor replies, pulling his boyfriend into a hug. “I trust you enough to take your word for it. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Hop says, relieved. 

Their shared embrace is honest and sincere, and Victor doesn’t want to let go at all. Without Hop, the ocean of his heart would dry up and become a desert, loveless and devoid of dreams. If Victor can’t claim his lover for the world to see, he’ll at least cling onto Hop like there’s nothing else that can wash away his sins. Victor would easily do anything for Hop – even change the rhythm of his own heart. Royal hair, eyes filled with fulfillment, and lips that drink the pain out of his aching body – all of Hop’s features spark devotion in Victor.

“Are you busy today?” Victor asks, pressing a kiss to Hop’s cheek. 

“I was planning on studying,” Hop says, “but since you’re here, I might as well spend as much time with you as possible before you go back to Wyndon.”

“Sorry,” Victor says guiltily. “I should’ve let you know I was coming.”

“It’s fine. Do you, uh, want tea?”

“Alright.”

Hop scurries off, slamming the door behind him as he walks briskly to the kitchen. The clatter of a metallic kettle and the clicking of the gas stove harmonize in a busy song. Hop huffs as he rests his head on his fist, waiting for the water to come to a boil. Each time he meets Victor, he’s so much more passionate and so much more articulate, but being apart only gives Hop late-night tremors and an incessant tick. Victor brings joy to his boring life, but Hop can’t provide anything – can’t return Victor’s love tenfold like Victor always does with him. He mindlessly goes through the motions of brewing tea – caught up in statements that are postulates to him and no one else. 

Before he knows it, he’s guiding the tea into Victor’s mouth with the palm of his hand on the bottom of the tea bowl, and Victor takes a long sip, soft hands touching Hop’s fingertips. Like this, Victor is somewhat ethereal. His bangs frame his face so perfectly that Hop wants to press kisses to his hair and tickle his lover until both of them can’t stop laughing. The idyllic boy is so _amazing_ ; nothing seems to make Victor doubt himself – and Hop wishes oh-so-dearly to feel confident in himself too.

“You make amazing tea,” Victor says. “Thank you.”

The bowl is already empty when Hop looks down, but Victor doesn’t let him go downstairs to get more. He snuggles onto Hop’s lap, staring up at his boyfriend. Months have passed since they’ve done anything purely romantic – and Hop feels guilty for it. Even worse, Hop feels _lonely_ even though they’re together right now. There’s nothing that makes him worth loving, and yet Victor’s so close to him, touching him, breathing the same air – Hop weakly smiles and brushes away Victor’s hair.

“You’re lovely,” Hop whispers.

“I think you’re lovely too,” Victor responds, smiling. “You’re beautiful like the moon.”

“The moon?” Hop echoes. Victor nods.

“You’re gorgeous and mysterious,” he says. “Plus, your earrings kinda glisten like full moons. They’re very pretty.”

Hop can’t help the wave of self-deprecation that follows Victor’s compliments. If Hop is the moon, then Victor is the Earth, building his own existence while Hop’s light is merely a reflection of the sun. If Hop is the moon, then he’s always facing Victor, watching every interview, every battle, liking every advertisement – observing everything his boyfriend does. He orbits Victor, ever-present – but does Victor look back at him? Does he even deserve to be looked at?

“Do you know how pretty you are?” Hop asks, trying to derail his thoughts.

“I’m not pretty,” Victor snorts, scrunching up his nose. “They have to photoshop me in every single photo they take of me. I look dumb otherwise.”

“You don’t,” Hop assures him.

“I’m bony,” Victor says, nuzzling Hop’s thigh. “You’re muscular and warm. And sexy.”

“You have muscle too,” Hop points out, hiking up Victor’s shirt to reveal his torso. 

Victor’s giggles stop when Hop’s face pales. “Something wrong?”

“No.”

“Arceus, is that your dick?” Victor says, sitting up.

“I can’t help it,” Hop says, embarrassed. “You’re cute.”

There’s no world where Hop isn’t cute in Victor’s eyes, and his affection only makes Victor’s love grow stronger. Everything about Hop draws him in – and Victor finds himself gravitating toward his boyfriend, kissing him until they both collapse onto the bed, cuddling.

“I love you so much,” Victor whispers. “Love every part of you.”

Hop’s laughter tinkles like wind chimes and Victor lets his lips linger wherever he wants them to. Victor needs Hop – needs him like a flower needs the sun, or like how heterotrophs need oxygen. If Hop is terrified of how Galar will react to their relationship, then Victor can wait for him, he decides.

“I won’t ever let go of your hand,” Victor says. “I want to walk with you for the rest of my life, even if that means we have to wait.”

“ _Victor_ ,” Hop whines, blushing. “You’re saying such adorable things.”

“I mean them, though,” he continues. “I don’t want to run away from the inevitable, and that’s why I wanted to go public with you.”

“I don’t think I can,” Hop whispers.

“I understand,” Victor says, kissing Hop again. “I’m worried about how they’d react, too.”

“I’m afraid,” Hop admits. “Mostly about what would happen to you.”

“Me?”

“Your fans would crucify you if you came out as homosexual. They’d probably bash me, too, because I’m dating you, but you’re the face of Galar, Vic. You’re an _idol_.”

“I’m not an idol,” Victor says, frowning.

“You’re loved by so many people, Vic. Myself included. People look up to you – they worship the ground you walk on, they want your opinion on everything! And if they find out you’re gay, your career will be over, and then everyone will blame me and it’ll be my fault that you’ve quit. Then they’ll actually –”

“Slow down, Hop,” Victor interrupts, shushing him. “I don’t know how being gay would end my career, but if it does, I would actually be grateful.”

“ _What?_ ” Hop gapes at him, eyes shaking with disbelief. “But being champion was your _dream!_ ”

“It was yours too,” Victor says. Hop’s eyes flash with frustration, and he stands up, distancing himself.

“I have a new dream now, Vic,” he chokes out. “Don’t give up just because I did. Don’t _pity_ me just because I failed to achieve my dreams.”

“You’re not a failure!” Victor exclaims, clamoring off the bed. “Hop, no, you don’t think you’re a failure, right? _Right?_ ”

“I am a failure,” Hop hisses. 

Victor’s expression crumbles. “You’re not, I promise.”

“I don’t understand why you love me, Vic,” Hop shouts, but it’s closer to a wail.

Victor feels a pang in his chest. “What do you mean?”

“You’re the champion, Vic, you’re rich now, you practically live in a hotel, your face is plastered on every single wall and every train and I can’t go anywhere without seeing you. But Victor, I’m a _nobody_ ,” Hop screams, voice turning hoarse. Victor steps forward to hug him, but Hop steps back. With the simple motion, cracks are running through his heart. 

“You’re not a nobody, Hop. I love you,” he whispers.

“Why me?” Hop presses, voice corrupted with self-hatred. “Why do you love me?”

“Because!” Victor yells. “Because I can’t imagine a world without you – because I can’t let you walk alone, because I see your face whenever I try to sleep – Hop, you’re my everything!”

The silence that fills the room extinguishes the light that filters through the windows. Soundless, tearless, and voiceless, Hop’s eyes are churning with an indistinguishable, terrifying emotion. Victor realizes he may have said too much, been a little too vulnerable, and suddenly he starts retreating into himself again. 

“I can’t be your everything,” Hop rasps. “You’re asking too much of me.”

“I’m sorry,” Victor says. “I won’t, then.”

“I need to study,” Hop mutters.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“It’s up to you.”

Victor doesn’t respond as he runs out, leaving Hop standing alone in his bedroom. If being apart from Hop is soul-crushing, then fighting with Hop turns his soul into ashes, into silver snow, scorching and charring him until he’s sand that slips between cracked tiles. His feet carry him through fog and through blurred surroundings until he can hear Zacian pop out from her Poké Ball.

“ _Victor?_ ” she asks.

He doesn’t respond – not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t. 

“ _Let’s go home, Victor,”_ Zacian says, nudging him. “ _I’ll carry you there._ ”

Victor shakes his head.

“ _Come on,_ ” she says, heaving him onto her back.

The world feels like it’s closing in on him.

* * *

Every moment turns into eternity when he worries about Hop.

It’s only been a week, and Victor is a mess. He’s hungry but too unmotivated to cook. He’s tired, but even when he blinks he can see Hop’s broken smile. When it’s too quiet, he can hear Hop call himself a failure. Victor’s taken to stuffing his ears with cotton and playing music at 75 decibels, but nothing drowns out his thoughts. The board banned him from battling after he nearly obliterated their practice arena with his G-Max Toxtricity. He fired his dietician and the dermatologist on the same day when they started policing his meals. He fired his sponsorship manager. After all was done, he went home and took a long nap.

Now, all Victor can do is mope in his room as his Pokémon routinely check in on him.

“ _Water_ ,” Toxtricity says, handing him a glass. “ _Drink_.”

Victor stares emptily at the cup in his hand, unmoving.

“ _Drink_ ,” Toxtricity repeats, pretending to chug something.

He slowly raises the rim to his mouth. The liquid relieves his cracked lips, and Victor downs the whole thing in a few seconds, handing it back to Toxtricity. “Thank you,” he croaks.

“ _Careful_ ,” she says. “ _Miss you._ ”

Victor blinks and immediately regrets it, images of Hop’s tear-stained face flashing through his mind like a camera reel. Even when he opens his eyes, the remnants of his memories replay, stuttering backward whenever he can’t think of anything else.

It’s been one week since their fight. It’s been one week since Victor’s received a message from Hop. It’s been one week since Victor’s heard Hop’s voice. He'd gone years without seeing Hop, but now a measly week can shatter him like this? He laughs out loud, unstable chuckling turning into coughs as he vocalizes his emotions. Whether it’s a cold or stress, Victor is troubled by something, and it’s stunting his mental capability.

“Water,” he says when Tsareena peeks in. She huffs and trots in with Toxtricity right behind her, holding a taller glass this time.

“ _Here,”_ Toxtricity offers when Tsareena nudges her.

“Thanks.”

“ _Sleep,_ ” Tsareena says. “ _You’ve been awake for two days staring at Rotom.”_

“I can’t,” Victor replies as she pries the exhausted phone from his hands.

Tsareena offers him a single sleeping pill, and when he drops it on the floor, she stomps her foot in anger, crushing it accidentally.

“ _Sleep, Vic,”_ she repeats.

“No,” he yawns. “I’ll think of Hop.”

“ _You already are. Go to sleep._ ”

 _You’re right_ , Victor thinks. _I’m guilty as charged._ Without blue light burning holes in his retinas, Victor can’t stay awake any longer, head hitting the pillow as he passes out. There isn’t anything except for Hop in his head, calling himself a failure over and over again, but Victor’s gotten used to the sound, his heart unwaveringly cold and empty. 

_What does it mean to miss someone so much that your heart goes numb?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the short chapter. churned this out in a day since i have crippling depression and i gotta do something while i'm streaming "on" in the background. i think my adhd probably manifests itself in writing form because i just. word vomit. bang, chapter. anyway the next chapter is much longer. i will make up for it.
> 
> if you love suffering, then hit me up! i like crying and having emotional breakdowns over fictional characters! nashijang @ twitter/ryuseirune @ ig! i think those are my @ but i might have mixed em up lmao


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor learns some self-care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no porn here ! we are resolving issues through conversations and uhhh confessions and the Past
> 
> bede is relevant here and you will see why within the first idk, 2000 words-ish.

“You look like a mess,” the new stylist hisses, scrunching up her nose in disgust. Of course, it’s nothing new to Victor – he’s gotten this reaction whenever he shows up to work in the morning. Dehydrated, red-eyed, and burnt-out, Victor looks nothing short of sleep-deprived. His throat burns with every breath, and his mouth is drier than Stow-on-Side on its hottest days. He hasn’t bothered to conceal his growing eye-bags or moisturize his flaking lips, either – life has been too shitty for Victor to do anything but eat, sleep, and think about Hop until his brain rots.

“I know,” he says calmly, as the stylist wraps a tape measure around his wrist. The thought of his boyfriend makes him tear up – but showing emotion in front of a stranger is taboo.

“You should at least try to look good. You look like you’ve been crying all night and you’ve had two hours of sleep, tops.”

She’s not wrong, but it doesn’t make it any harder to accept. Hop _still_ hasn’t contacted him since their argument – but Victor can wait. And while he does, Victor can think about why he shouldn’t love Hop so much that he becomes everything.

“Well, I guess I’m here to fix that,” the stylist says, smacking her lips. “Why don’t you try this on? It’s from my personal collection.”

“What is that?”

“It’s a suit.”

“What’s with the lace…?”

“I think you should go for a sexy image,” the stylist says. “It’s feminine, but still masculine enough for you to wear it. This way, you’ll appeal to men and women. You know?”

“I don’t really want to know,” Victor slowly words. 

“You’re, like, twenty-one now,” she says. “It’s been five years since your championship. I think you can stand to look a little less like a prude. Sex it up and stuff. Flaunt your slutty side. You know?”

“Not that I’m against sexual expression, but I just wouldn’t feel comfortable in… that,” Victor says, gesturing toward the hot pink suit with a black lace… pectoral window. It looks like a combination of formal wear and lingerie. Victor can’t imagine himself in something simultaneously revealing and professional – those things just don’t work for Victor’s social anxiety.

“Well, if you change your mind, it’s here,” she says, handing him the outfit. “It’ll be loose on you, but better loose than tight.”

“I’m good,” Victor says, shoving it back into her arms. “I think I’m good for the foreseeable future, actually, so I’m gonna take my leave now if that’s okay.”

“ _Arceus_ , you literally look like you’ve been wasted for twelve hours, and while being hammered, you went into a department store and bought the cheapest, most terribly clashing items off the shelf. I mean, if “homeless drunk man” is your style, then so be it, I’ll go,” she snaps, her heels clicking against the floor. “Didn’t know the champion was such an ass.”

Ouch. Victor really isn’t in the mood to fight anyone today, but getting called a homeless person kind of hurts. It’s only a tiny Leech Life compared to the gigantic Strength Sap of having his mind occupied by a single man the entire time, but it’s enough to make him want to at least try. He hasn’t been thinking about his appearance lately, but he probably should. Even if he won’t be seeing Hop any time soon, Victor should at least do the bare minimum – shower, brush his hair, and eat. 

Victor’s never been good at choosing clothes that look good on him, either. He doesn’t want advice from narcissistic people trying to promote their passion projects – he just wants to look good enough to _not_ look like he doesn’t care about his championship. He’ll go clothes shopping to get his mind off of things, and if he dresses nicely enough, people won’t ask him why his eye bags are so pronounced. He just needs to find someone fashionable enough and kind enough to help him out in picking a few new outfits.

Victor scrolls through his contact list. There are seventeen people registered on it, and the very first contact is the only one online. He reluctantly calls the number, and it only rings for two seconds before Bede’s pleasantly surprised face pops onto Rotom’s screen.

“Hey, Victor – _Woah_ ,” the blond says, wincing. “You look…”

“Like a mess?” Victor finishes. Bede looks guilty, but he nods anyway.

“What happened?”

“I need your help,” Victor says. “I don’t have any fashion sense, and you’re the only person in my contacts who looks and acts like a model.”

“You don’t have Nessa’s number?” Bede asks. Victor shakes his head.

“No. Plus, you’re a guy – so you know what’s in fashion for men,” he explains.

“Okay, whatever. I’ll help you,” Bede groans. Surprisingly, he relents – but Victor won’t complain. The blond continues, “Meet me at the mall in Wyndon in thirty minutes. And… make yourself presentable. Brush your hair, maybe.”

“I will. See you soon,” Victor says.

“Yeah,” Bede’s mouth twitches. “See you soon.”

* * *

Bede presses a red shirt with flower print to Victor’s chest, examining him carefully.

“What do you think?” he asks, holding it up in front of Victor.

“It’s okay,” Victor responds nonchalantly. “It looks nice.”

“Hm,” Bede says, hanging it back on the rack. “I don’t really know what kind of clothes you like to wear, Victor. Can you tell me what styles interest you most?”

Victor’s at a loss for words. “Uh, I don’t like standing out too much. So something plain is okay.”

“How plain is too plain?” Bede inquires. “Like the red shirt you always wear – is that too plain? Do you want something similar? What do you want that’s different?”

“I just want something flattering,” Victor shrugs. The other man crosses his arms, his purple jacket scrunching slightly at the elbows.

“Are you asking what I think will look good on you?” Bede asks.

“Uh… yes?”

“Oh,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well, _obviously,_ anything I pick will look good on you. But since I’m here to help you, I can put together a few outfits and we can go from there.”

“Okay,” Victor says. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Bede says, already rifling through racks of clothes. 

The number of hangers in Victor’s arms increases slowly as his friend pulls out various shirts, pants, and outerwear. Everything is carefully color-coded – Bede’s methodical organization methods are quite tasteful. Victor’s in the middle of admiring his speedy evaluations when Bede leads him to the changing room and coaxes him in with a bundle of clothes. Somehow, when Bede shuts the door, it’s like Victor’s being pushed off the edge of a cliff without knowing what’s below or how to land. He struggles with the buckles and zippers on the clothes – but eventually, he manages to put everything on.

When Victor looks at himself in the mirror, he can hardly recognize his reflection. The all-black selection is reminiscent of an emo funeral or Piers’s punk-rock wedding concerts, and unfortunately, Victor feels like someone else’s skin has been wrapped around his body. With a bit of makeup, he could easily transform into an Unovan biker going to his fancy day job. There’s a gentle knock at the door, and Bede’s soft voice asks if he can see Victor in the outfit.

“I don’t know how to feel about this,” he says as he slides open the door. Bede’s eyes flicker to the choker and then the brooch on his vest. The other boy stares intently at his neck for a whole minute before he sighs.

“You look good, but it doesn’t suit you,” Bede says quietly, handing him the next outfit.

The long white gloves and the bowler hat with feathers make him look like a sky-blue Mary Poppins wannabe, and he can’t seem to figure out why the pants puff out above the calf, making his thighs look gigantic. It’s an old style, but the clothes are comfortable for the most part, if not a bit stuffy. He cracks the door open a bit to check if Bede’s waiting outside, and the boy glances straight at him.

“Show me,” he says. Victor steps out from behind the door and Bede’s lips twitch up into a smile.

“What?” Victor says.

“Nothing,” Bede says, shaking his head. “Just thought you looked funny.”

“You’re supposed to be helping me,” Victor complains, tugging at Bede’s sleeve.

“If you don’t try on new things, how are you supposed to know what looks good on you?”

“Fine, but only if you insist.”

“I do insist. Hurry up and try this.”

This time, the clothes are closer to what he’d normally wear, except the hoodie is a pastel pink and littered with tiny graphics of sweets. There are matching shoes to complete the look, and with black pants, a white shirt, and a black cap, he looks somewhat okay. This time, he can open the door with confidence, and Bede stands back proudly, admiring his work.

“There we go,” Bede says, nodding. “Now how’s that?”

“Feels good,” Victor replies, turning around slowly. “Should I try more outfits like these…?”

“Probably,” Bede says, shoving another outfit into his hands. “This one’s more on the girly side. I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

The outfit is difficult to put on, but Victor manages. He turns back to the mirror and gives himself a good, long look. There are large red bows in the front, almost appearing as ruffles at first. He almost looks like someone in a ballet performance with tight pants, but the boots interrupt the look to distinguish it enough. When he shows Bede, the other boy’s eyes dart up and down, from his heels to his head.

“Looks neat,” Bede says. “What do you think?”

“Pretty good,” Victor responds.

“Do you like cute things?” the other man asks, handing him another outfit. “You seem to be enjoying this a bit.”

“I am,” he says. “I like this.”

There’s a flurry of colors and fabrics that Bede throws at him, urging Victor to try on new things. Victor finds most of Bede’s recommendations flattering – enhancing his bone structure and stretching his legs for a taller look. The mature vibe is refreshing and luxurious, and everything Bede picks makes him look tall and thin. Some of the things make Victor feel comfortable – and some of them make his skin itch so badly that it burns. A few themes are constant, though – red accents, long sleeves, and mild colors.

“You have a good eye,” Victor says to Bede in between changing. “You only pick clothes that you think I’ll like.”

“It wouldn’t do any good if I made you try on something you would never wear,” the blond shrugs, brushing his hair to the side. His close examination of Victor’s stature enables him to highlight Victor’s best features – it’s clear Bede knows what he’s doing. Victor’s grateful Bede’s so willing to help him nowadays – during the challenge, the other man wouldn’t have pressed a button to save Victor’s soul.

“I mean, I guess so,” Victor says, shrugging. “I don’t know if these outfits fit my personality, though.”

“Well, I know this one does. That’s why I saved it for last,” Bede drawls, prompting Victor to try it on. 

“Are you sure?”

“You’ll look great,” Bede says. “I promise.”

And when Victor looks back at himself – he really does. Warm clothes, cherry red parka, adorable socks with Alcremie motifs: Victor feels _right_ . It’s mortifyingly odd in an endearing way, cute but still masculine, comfortable yet still presentable – and Victor feels… _Confident? Prepared? Ready to face the world?_ He can’t tell – but he wants to understand himself and maybe even –

There’s a knock at the door.

“Victor? Can I see?”

And when his eyes meet Bede’s – he feels so incredibly _seen_. He’s dazzled by Victor, eyes sparkling with satisfaction and glee. Bede’s normal smirk dissipates, replaced with a hot-blooded glimmer. Victor is ardent under Bede’s single-minded inspection, and suddenly, the room feels like it’s on fire.

“Do I look alright?” Victor asks meekly.

“You look… great,” Bede says, lacking all his egotistic passion. “You should, uh, buy that.”

“Okay,” Victor replies.

It’s silent between them as Victor purchases his favorite items, wearing the last outfit as they leave the store. Even if no one sees Victor except for Bede, the approval of one friend is more than enough to make him feel a little less terrible. Bede can’t stop sneaking glances at Victor when he thinks he isn’t looking – and their eyes keep meeting with an awkward shakiness.

“Victor, do you want to take a walk with me?” Bede asks.

“Uh, sure,” Victor says.

Bede doesn’t reach for his hand like Hop would – he just motions for Victor to follow him as they trot out of Wyndon’s largest mall, through the streets and into the empty park nearby. No one’s there – paparazzi, citizens, and tourists are all non-existent amidst the decaying foliage. Victor’s elated by the boundless sound of nature: a tiny piece of Wild Area leisure placed in the middle of a bustling city.

“Did you want to talk about something?” Victor asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Honestly, Victor, I don’t know why,” Bede starts. “But I need to tell you this.”

“Okay. I’ll listen.”

Bede can’t look him in the eye – so he turns to the trees above them. For some reason, as the two trample over weeds and detritus, it’s placating to be together. Then suddenly, Bede stops.

“I like you, Victor.”

Victor drops the paper bag onto the wet grass. 

“ _What?_ ” he gasps, clamoring for understanding. Knowledge, respect, care – surely that’s what Bede means. But his purple eyes, filled with the duality of a rainy day, unwavering, unblinking, are calm like the ocean floor. The earth beneath Victor feels like it’s dragging him down, his shoes sinking into the mud. He begs his legs to move, but they refuse to budge, responding to the adrenaline boost incorrectly.

“I know we haven’t even talked in years,” Bede says, “but ever since I became Gym Leader, I loved you, Victor.”

There are no words for the way that his heart handles Bede’s overzealous admission – it’s unimaginable to Victor how Bede can be so open. Reason doesn’t work for either of them, and uncontrolled sonnets tumble out and into the air around them. Bede doesn’t contain his emotions – they’re open and undisguised, painted for only Victor to see. He’s unafraid, already knowing what’s to come. Even if he loves Victor, Bede isn’t the object of Victor’s affections.

“I’m sorry, Bede,” Victor begins.

“Don’t say it,” Bede says. “I already know your answer – and I don’t want to hear it.”

It’s a crushing statement for both of them – Bede can see through Victor like he’s tracing paper. He doesn’t need evidence when Victor exposes it all on the surface, faltering visibly. Even though the scene is entirely played out on an open stage, there aren’t any doors for Victor to break open and run away through – a skin-tight glass barrier keeps his feet stuck in place. Nothing is more terrifying than being loved by someone when you can’t love yourself, Victor realizes. 

“Why did you say it if you knew?” Victor asks.

“Because I think you need to hear it,” Bede shrugs. “I care about you.”

Victor doesn’t get it – how can someone love without wanting love back? There’s no sign that Bede will break down and cry from Victor’s imminent rejection – his unfettered figure is set in stone. It’s metagnostic to imagine such impossible things: Victor pines daily and he has Hop’s love. If Hop didn’t love him, Victor would be helplessly waiting without a soulmate. And because he loves Hop too much – he might be waiting forever. Victor takes a shaky breath and forgets.

“Why?”

“You’re feeling unloved,” Bede says. “Just look at yourself.”

He can’t deny it – distance from Hop disturbs him, forces regret down his throat, and makes him feel like he’ll never be worth another chance. Victor would kill to be by Hop’s side – he would condemn himself to an eternal hell; he would split the sea in two; he would turn silver into gold if it meant he could feel Hop’s breath on his neck just another time. If absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder – Victor has turned whatever genteel love he had into obsessive panic, greedily gripping at his boyfriend’s fading silhouette.

“I’m sorry, Bede,” is all he can say.

“I know. But being sorry won’t do you any good – you have to repent for your mistakes, Victor. Face yourself in the mirror – and learn how to take care of yourself.”

“It’s not about me,” Victor says. Because it’s about Hop – who he wants to give all of himself to until he milks himself dry of any life.

“It is,” Bede says. “I see how you look at Hop.”

 _Oh no_. Victor fumbles for excuses or an escape, but there aren’t any paths out, even with the open area around them. 

“You don’t have to admit it,” Bede adds. “I just… I’ve always been looking at you, Victor. I always have been.”

“Is that why you helped me today?” Victor asks hesitantly.

“I helped you because we’re friends,” he sniffs. “You look beautiful in that outfit – but don’t get all big-headed about it.”

Victor is so average – so plain, and yet the compliments rock him to his heart.

“What about… you and Hop?”

“He told you about that?” Bede groans. “God, I just – we fought over you, and then when you became the champion, I wanted to give up on my feelings. Hop had the same idea – so we tried things out together.”

“Why didn’t it work out?” Victor asks.

“I know you’re dense, but you don’t have to pretend to be so blind. I just couldn’t get over you, and he couldn’t either. When you two disappeared at Marnie’s birthday, I knew you liked him – so telling you is my way of moving on, I guess,” Bede explains. He kicks at a pile of dirt on the ground, scattering it through the clearing.

“Is that why you came here?”

“I already told you. I came here because you’re my friend, Victor,” Bede hisses. “Plus, I’m not going to pine over you for another five years. Go, find your happy ending.”

“My happy ending?” Victor echoes.

“Tell him you love him,” Bede says. “He loves you too – you just don’t know it yet.”

He doesn’t make a sound. Bede picks up the brown paper bag and drops it into Victor’s arms awkwardly. The bottom is damp and crinkled, but it’s thick enough not to tear. His friend sighs when he realizes Victor won’t say another word.

“Look, I don’t expect anything from you,” Bede says. “I love you – _loved_ you – because you’re you. You’re kind, strong, and brave – and so much more.”

“Bede, I don’t know what to say,” Victor says.

Bede exhales again.

“You don’t need to say anything. Just don’t give up.”

The sky is amethyst in its afterglow – matching Bede’s eyes. The blonde lifts his eyes to the heavens tainted in saudade. Amorets resound in the acronical atmosphere, a signal of the day’s end. Victor is alive with sudden autognosis because of Bede’s words – it forces him to search inward, questioning incomprehensible thoughts. He asks himself why he loves Hop, what it means to love – he redefines his idea of love with Bede’s heartfelt emotions.

Bede’s proclamation of love is simultaneously selfish and selfless – a product of Victor’s low self-confidence, an attempt to cheer him up, Bede’s unrequited feelings, and appreciation. Somehow, it’s conveyed in a way that doesn’t make him feel like shit – and it’s liberating. Victor finally understands why it crushes Hop to be Victor’s _everything_. After all, that’s how Victor feels as Champion. Shouldering the burden of both acolytes that blindly follow him and onlookers seething with avarice, he’s spent the last five years suffering. 

Hop can’t be the glue holding together Victor’s life – he has his own job to manage. Victor understands that – but he also still wants Hop to be his everything in other ways. Victor wants to fill his senses with Hop’s love and blot out anything else. His dream is to be with Hop forever, and maybe if he tells Hop that, Hop will understand what Victor means by “everything.” Victor promises himself he’ll call Hop after dinner tonight and explain – and maybe their “everything” will turn out okay.

* * *

It takes Victor an hour to prepare himself fully. Calling Hop requires his full attention and his courage, the latter only acquired after his clothes-shopping excursion. He calls over Rotom and hovers over the button, wondering whether to press it or not. When he’s finally about to tap the screen, Rotom starts vibrating rapidly.

“ _Incoming video call from Hop!”_ it garbles excitedly. Victor accepts it without a second thought. When his boyfriend’s nervous face fizzles into his vision, Victor lets relief wash over him for the first time in a week.

“That was quick,” Hop smiles, eyes flitting around his own phone.

“I was just about to call you, actually,” Victor responds, leaning forward so he can see Hop better. “I wanted to apologize to you.”

“About what?” Hop asks.

“I said you were my everything, and I realized that my statement might have stressed you out. For a while, I was worried that you didn’t love me –”

“I love you,” Hop interrupts. “And I should be the one saying sorry to you, Vic – I got all depressed for a second, and I started feeling really shitty. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or pushed you away. That was wrong of me.”

“I love you, Hop. It’s okay – you were upset.”

“It’s not okay that I hurt you because I was upset, Vic,” Hop groans, frowning. “It made you upset when I said I didn’t want to be your everything, right?”

“Right, but I realize now that it sounded like you were the only thing that made me happy – though you do make me really happy, trust me – and I don’t want you to feel pressured to come out to everyone just because that’s what I want,” Victor rambles.

“I – thank you, Vic,” Hop stutters, coughing. “I actually really do want to tell everyone.”

“Don’t force yourself.”

“I’m not – I mean it. I want to tell everyone that we’re together. I mean, we have to tell them eventually, right? I just… I’m afraid, that’s all,” Hop explains.

“Afraid of… how they’ll react, or if it’ll get out?” Victor asks, rubbing his arms to comfort himself. “Because I’m worried about how they’ll react, too – but I don’t think they would tell anyone.”

“Mostly Bede,” Hop says, without elaborating.

“Makes sense,” Victor says. “But I think he’d be okay with it if we told him that we’re dating.”

“I don’t think so,” Hop chuckles nervously, looking down at his lap.

“Bede confessed to me today, Hop,” Victor says quietly. “And he told me to confess to you so I could find my happy ending.”

“ _He did what?”_ Hop screeches. “Wait, you don’t like him, right?”

“No, I don’t like him. I like you,” Victor huffs. “We’ve been dating for the past five months, and I’ve liked you for _literally_ my entire life.”

“Good, because I like you,” Hop grins, puffing up with pride. “So, uh… what did he say to you?”

“Just that I look like shit and I need to treat myself better and tell you that I love you.”

“Okay, you do not look like shit. You actually look pretty sexy right now.”

“I looked like shit earlier.”

“Aw, you dressed up for me?”

“I wanted to make sure that I didn’t look sleep-deprived.”

“Well, it worked. If you asked me anything, I’d probably agree.”

“If you were only worried about Bede’s reaction, would it be okay to finally tell the gym leaders that we’re dating?” Victor asks. 

“Only if we’re going to do it together,” Hop laughs.

In Victor’s head, Hop’s fading voice is replenished by laughter and exchanges of love. In his chest, Victor can feel Hop’s bright soul twist and spark, intertwining with his across lightyears. The call is rejuvenating – it’s a blessing that they had the same idea at the same time. _It could be fate,_ he thinks. _Or it could be our love._

“I love you,” Victor says, forming a heart with his hands.

“I love you too,” Hop says, blowing a kiss to Victor. Victor’s heart tickles the skin beneath his breast like it’s just come back to life. Revived, he can give his all from now on if it means he can have Hop by his side. 

They spend hours talking about silly things and flirting with each other over the phone. By the time Victor has to sleep, Hop is already nodding off. Saying goodbye doesn’t hurt this time, though – it’s comforting. Knowing Hop will call again one day is enough for Victor’s heart to flower and burst with glee. They part with kissy noises and “good night,” but Victor will greet Hop again in the morning.

And it’s enough.

It’s more than enough for Victor to lie down and smile to himself while Toxtricity giggles in the next room. When he closes his eyes, Victor sees Hop like he always has – but the vision doesn’t make him fall to pieces. An imaginary Hop leans in for a kiss before he leads Victor to a heart-shaped pond and holds his hand. Victor lets his mind roam free – Hop in a suit, Hop in the laboratory, Hop in his challenger clothes, Hop with no clothes – Victor starts choking on his drool.

“ _Victor!”_ Toxtricity rushes in. “ _Water!_ ”

“I’m fine,” Victor says, holding in his coughs.

“ _Okay,_ ” she says, her eyes narrowing. “ _Water._ ”

She dumps the cold liquid over his face as he sputters. Crushed ice slides down his neck and into his loose t-shirt. Victor wipes his face with his sleeves and glares at her. Toxtricity sticks out her tongue – she’s already halfway out the door – and stomps away, glass in hand.

“What was that for?” he calls after her.

“ _Go be pervert outside,_ ” she shouts back.

Victor crawls out of bed, drenched in water and his love for Hop. He ends up changing out of his pajamas and into sleepy-casual clothes before he slips outside, where Eternatus gazes up at the stars.

“Hi,” he says.

“ _Hello_ ,” she replies, patting the ground with her tail. “ _Sit down._ ”

Victor lays down next to her draconic form, watching the galaxy dance and whistle above them. It’s Eternatus’s origin: 10,000 years ago, she came to Earth on a meteor. She doesn’t speak of it often, but Victor knows she misses it – it’s the reason she initially started the Darkest Day, after all. The fear of new things, anger, confusion – all of those things Victor can relate to, but Eternatus’s frustration caused a mini-apocalypse. He can’t blame her, though – absorbing power like that is normal on her home planet. An instinctive action in the wrong place made her seem like a scary demon – but it’s really just a difference in culture.

“ _I sleep now,”_ Eternatus interrupts his train of thoughts. “ _No talking. Good night._ ”

She curls around him as she powers down, bringing him closer to her core. Eternatus is a softie at heart – and Victor loves her just like he loves any of his other daughters and sons. A snore escapes her bony body, and Victor can finally think of Hop without worrying about Eternatus’s reaction.

There’s a cluster of stars in the sky – and Victor traces the lines between them with his finger. Eight stars twinkle together, watched by two other stars a little further out. They’re so bright, they eclipse all other light sources – and Victor imagines.

The eight stars are Rapidash, Appletun, Cinderace, Bisharp, Umbreon, Tsareena, and Toxtricity, bustling together as part of Victor’s team throughout his journey. And the two observers are Zacian and Eternatus, peeking at the others from afar. He knows that the balls of gas don’t mean anything in the end – but he can pretend.

And he does.

* * *

Sunlight streams through the leaves as their footsteps halt on the flower-adorned path. A luminous voice echoes through his mind, and Victor turns toward its genesis. The boy’s purple hair and denim jacket lined with soft wool make him stand out in the scenery. His Grookey clings to his right leg as he strolls to a stop at Victor’s side, beaming. From the upper reaches of the water, a small waterfall trickles down into the pond below. 

“ _Aren’t you so happy we finally got approved?”_ Hop bounces around, grasping Victor’s hands. It tingles wherever their skin meets – and Victor can feel his heart thrumming even faster.

“ _I’m glad we can start our travels together,_ ” he hears himself say. 

A forgotten memory, Victor registers – one of the Wild Area with Hop. He’s lucid dreaming by now, but the imagery in his mind is so stunning that he’s not sure he wants anything to change. It’s a different world, one where Victor and Hop aren’t Champion Victor and Assistant Professor Hop – they’re just two kids making their way through life’s challenges. Even back then, the signs of a crush are evident in his every reaction to Hop’s movements – a blush, lingering glances and oculoplania, an attraction to the color of gold and a constant rush of sounds whenever their eyes meet. _Why hadn’t he realized earlier?_ Victor wonders. It’s no use pining over the past – but he allows himself to do it anyway.

Day turns into dusk as Victor mulls over recollections, watching the petals whirl around their camping site. The Pidove and Rookidee nest above them, chirping into the night. It’s spring, tainted with April fantasies and storybook aspirations. Victor wants to tell Hop how much he loves him when they huddle together, protecting each other from the crisp midnight air. As soon as he tries to say it, the wind blows through their tent as Victor’s hallucination turns to dust, disintegrating.

He almost complains to himself before he’s thrust into another act, further on into their adventure. It’s when Bede defeats Hop – and his best friend is destroyed, clinging onto Victor in the Wild Area. He does his best to soothe Hop, gently comforting him through his loss – but he still weeps, and Victor aches. 

“ _Why am I such a failure?_ ” Hop wails into Victor’s shoulder, hot teardrops soaking into his shirt.

 _“Don’t say that,_ ” past Victor whispers. “ _I’ve always looked up to you, Hop._ ”

 _“Really?”_ the boy bawls. “ _But Victor, even you always defeat me.”_

 _“You’ve made it so far. Don’t let him get to you,”_ he murmurs.

Victor wants to kiss Hop’s sadness away, but when he leans in, his boyfriend disintegrates in his hands, slipping away through the spaces between his fingers like sand. He’s scattered with the summer breeze, cold against Victor’s hot neck.

“Hey, hold on, let me kiss him,” Victor mutters to himself. Ahead of him, Hop’s back is turned – and Victor steps forward.

Neon blue light fills the old forest as mud sinks into his shoes. Ballonlea is bewitching all year, but even the most mysterious places are impacted by the incoming autumn. The crunch of dead leaves and the skittering of Impidimp searching for berries startles Hop. The boy soars into Victor’s arms, and basked in fairy light, Hop is beautiful.

 _“Holy shit! Why is this place so scary?”_ he yells into Victor’s ear.

 _“It’s not, but maybe someone should build a clearer path,”_ Victor replies. _“We got lost again.”_

 _“Why did the Gym Challenge include such an out-of-the-way location?”_ Hop grumbles. Victor doesn’t mind as long as it means Hop will stay by his side in the darkness. He successfully pulls Hop into another hug – but the warmth fades away quickly. His mind is teasing him with images born from pure desire – and Victor won’t sit by and let things happen.

In the corner of his mind, Victor peeks through the window of his hotel room at a young man observing a bundle of Snom on the ground.

Victor lurches forward – through the window, onto the icy stone walkway a few stories below, and into Hop’s arms, peppering his cheeks with kisses. It’s sweet, even if it’s not a real memory – because Hop kisses back in the snowy city, his lips cold and chapped.

That’s when Hop flicks him in the forehead – and Victor wakes up to Eternatus’s tail thrashing in his face. It bumps him in the nose again, and this time, he grabs it, stilling her promptly. Eternatus is still fast asleep – but Victor can’t fall back asleep now, with the sun slowly creeping up over the horizon. He groans as the light glints into his eyes, forcing him to start his day earlier than expected.

Nothing is more beautiful than the sunrise in the morning – because the sky turns the color of Hop’s eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being pent-up isn't healthy. Victor and Hop resolve their needs together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanna know something really funny? i use grammarly to check if the porn is correctly written.

The Challenger Cup is coming up in a month.

Even though he should be focused on winning again, Victor’s mind is everywhere else. He spends long nights wondering if Hop misses him just as much as Victor misses Hop – and most of them are sleepless. He searches for Hop’s touch in his dreams and his life – and just two days ago, Victor caved and bought a gigantic Wooloo plushie, which rests on his bed. Its honest eyes gaze up at him now, and Victor stares back, pretending it’s Hop so he can kiss it when no one’s looking.

Two weeks since their argument, and one since they began calling every day – Victor’s love has only been reinforced by their connection, and his body is suffering from the distance between them. Fatigue, longing, and a growing libido – all of these things are products of separation from Hop, and Victor hates it. 

Shamefully, he hasn’t been able to masturbate after any of their calls. Hop is so sugary and so attractive on-screen that it caramelizes Victor’s restraint and turns him into a shuddering mess. But after Hop goes to sleep, Victor feels guilty when he tries to jack off – so he just lays in bed with a boner that fades and comes back every twenty minutes, startling him from rest.

“Tonight will be different,” Victor assures himself after ending the call, crawling into his bed. It’s been a long day, and he doesn’t have the strength to stay awake. Images of Hop in compromising situations can’t be formed in Victor’s exhausted brain, so falling asleep is much easier than usual.

* * *

“Good morning, Victor,” Hop whispers, kissing him on the cheek. The sun is peeking through the curtains – and in the warm room, Hop is gorgeous. His irises look like amber or topaz as the light refracts, and Victor blinks slowly, taking in his boyfriend’s beauty. Hop climbs under the sheets and cuddles up next to him. 

His love is so much stronger than Victor now – in only a few years, Hop’s grown rapidly and gotten much stronger than Victor. Height is one thing Hop defeats him in – but Victor also loses when it comes to cuteness level. Whenever their lips meet, Victor turns to mush, shaped by Hop’s experienced mouth. And Hop is sexier too – his body is ripped in comparison to Victor’s skinny arms and legs. Victor’s not completely void of muscle, but it’s much harder to maintain a healthy body weight when your diet is completely managed by people who don’t know what’s good for you.

“I missed you so much,” Victor murmurs into Hop’s firm lips, licking at them zealously. “I don’t want to go to work today.”

“You should go back,” Hop replies, gently squeezing Victor’s hand. Victor doesn’t want to go to Wyndon – he wants to stay in Hop’s arms, in Hop’s bed – for the rest of the day and the rest of his life. Victor takes in Hop’s musk, a mixture of sweat and citrus-scented tea.

“I’ve been practicing every day,” Victor complains, wrapping his arms around Hop’s chest. He doesn’t want to get up at all. “They never let me have a break. I haven’t been able to show you how much I love you in weeks.”

“Is that so?” Hop hums, petting Victor’s hair. “I guess we can stay like this a little while longer, then.”

“Kiss me more, please,” Victor requests, pursing his lips in anticipation. 

Hop giggles and bites him. Victor yelps in a mixture of surprise and pain, but Hop shoves his tongue down Victor’s throat, soothing him instantly. Victor kisses his boyfriend back, humming into his mouth happily. When they pull away, Hop smiles back at him.

“I love you,” Victor says.

“I love you too,” Hop replies, nuzzling him again. His hair is soft, just like wool – and Victor sinks gently into Hop’s touch. Spending time together is the best – but spending time kissing and cuddling together is even better.

In the hazy morning glow, his boyfriend is handsome and glorious, a picture-perfect representation of an angelic creature. It’s almost as if Victor is in heaven whenever Hop greets him – far away from the cruelty of the rest of the world. Hop is Victor’s sanctuary, protecting him from Macro Cosmos’s evil grip. Everything is better in Hop’s arms, too – and Victor experiences even more joy when Hop kisses him to exchange food or drink. It’s endearing and adorable – and Hop is the most wonderful thing in the world

“Victor,” Hop mumbles, nibbling at Victor’s collarbone. Victor tilts his neck up for easier access, and Hop sinks his teeth into Victor’s clavicle. It’s been so long since they’ve done such things that it almost feels new, and Victor whines at every touch. Hop’s hands travel up Victor’s shirt, touching his sensitive chest, rubbing at his nipples, groping at his sides – and he groans again, letting Hop take over.

Hop slides down Victor’s pants without difficulty, gently stroking Victor’s dick. He gasps and squeezes Hop’s shoulders, digging his nails into soft flesh. Hop hisses quietly but continues feeling, moving, _scorching_ – and Victor burns up, panting into his boyfriend’s hand, rutting back and forth with each pump, whining as he gets closer to release –

And then he fucking _wakes up_. 

Victor is a mess as he stumbles to his desk, his dick painfully hard and his trousers uncomfortably soaked through. It’s five in the fucking morning and Victor is going to shamefully watch porn to get himself out of arousal, loading up his browser. There’s a tiny pop-up on his screen, and he accidentally clicks on it while trying to exit out in his haste. He almost quits before he realizes it’s a message from Hop. It reads, “vic?? why are you up so early lol??” He doesn’t know how to respond, but quickly, another line of text flits across the screen. 

“Do you want to call, by the way?” Victor reads it out loud, feeling warm inside. He clicks the video call button without hesitation, still aching with lust. He’ll ignore it if it means more time with Hop, though – and his boyfriend’s face fills his heart with warmth when he picks up.

“Victor!” Hop smiles, waving at his webcam. “I’m surprised you’re using your computer for this call.”

“Aren’t you using your laptop right now?” Victor points out. Hop is sitting on his bed, legs crossed and covered by a thick blanket.

“Yeah, but I normally do that. You don’t,” Hop says.

“I don’t bring my monitor around everywhere,” Victor explains, quickly closing the inappropriate distractions in the background.

“I guess not,” Hop laughs. “You never answered my question. Why are you awake so early?”

“I woke up abruptly,” Victor shrugs, smiling nervously. “What about you?”

“I had a dream,” Hop says. “About you.”

“What, really?” Victor laughs. “Is this a coincidence? I had a dream about you, too.”

“And it woke you up?” Hop asks, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

“Yeah,” he admits. Victor can already feel his cheeks turning red as Hop snickers.

“What kind of dream was it? Can I guess?” Hop smirks. When Victor nods, he continues. “Was it a kinky dream?”

Victor giggles quietly, scooting his chair back to show Hop the bulge in his pants. “Yes, I had a sex dream about my extremely attractive boyfriend.”

Hop pulls the blanket down and _ah, he’s hard too._ Victor shudders in his seat, already feeling the excitement in his stomach growing tenfold. Hop touches himself through his pants, showing Victor just how horny he is right now. Victor’s tempted to whip out his dick, but when his hands fly to his waistband, Hop glares at the camera and straight into Victor’s soul.

“No touching your dick, Vic,” he commands. “Do you have lube on you right now?”

Victor nods – he was already prepared before Hop contacted him, and there’s a bottle right next to the keyboard. Hop hums pleasantly when Victor shows him.

“I’ve been having these dreams about you lately, Vic,” Hop hisses, pulling out his dick. It’s large, veiny, and handsome – and Victor wants it to fill him so badly. Victor’s hungry eyes are enraptured by Hop’s manhood, dilating with thirst. “I want you to take off your pants and spread your legs for me – and no touching yourself until I say so.”

Victor obliges his boyfriend and exposes himself to Hop, sitting on the edge of his seat. His dick is dripping with precum, and it’s leaking down between his thighs and wetting his entrance naturally. Hop smiles at the sight and pumps his dick harder.

“Finger yourself for me, Vic,” Hop demands. “Do it until you’re ready for my cock.”

The lube is cold and slimy and gross against his ass, but he presses in with just one finger, slipping it in without much resistance. It’s just like that time a few months ago, when Hop fucked him until he couldn’t move – but this time, Victor’s going to prepare himself. He fiddles with his insides, trying to find his prostate to make the intrusion more tolerable – but he can’t find it. He fumbles around until he just barely brushes against it, clenching down hard on the one finger inside him with a whimper. Hop licks his lips in hunger as he watches Victor pry himself open with another finger.

“I wish these hands were yours,” Victor moans, struggling to hit his prostate. His fingers are too stubby, too short, and far too inexperienced to please himself as Hop had. He rubs at his walls as his dick flails on his stomach, leaking fluids on his abdomen. “Your hands are so soft and nice… you fill me so well.”

“I miss you so much,” Hop growls on the other side. “Another finger, Victor. I’d be much harsher on you than that.”

“Ah-ha, Hop,” Victor mewls, sticking a third in. He feels his walls spasm in an attempt to get it out, but his cock is so hard that Victor spurns himself on, again and again, shallowly fingering himself. His sphincter throbs, but as Hop watches him, his mental state falls to ruins, whoring himself out for his boyfriend to see as he bucks onto his fingers.

“Beautiful,” Hop groans, thumbing over the head of his penis. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Victor pants, sliding his slickened fingers out of himself. Hop looks as if he’s about to scold Victor, but as Victor reaches for the dildo on his desk, Hop’s pouting face turns into a bright grin.

“Are you gonna fuck yourself and imagine that’s me, too?” Hop teases, still thrusting into his palm.

“If you’re okay with it, yes,” Victor says, embarrassed.

“Only if you describe exactly how you want me,” Hop says.

Victor coats the glass dildo with lube and touches it to his entrance. He takes a deep breath, trying to relax as he eases the substitute for Hop inside of him, groaning quietly. Victor knows the glass lets Hop see how his insides contract and tremble, and the thought of Hop looking inside him only turns him on more.

“Like what you see?” Victor asks shakily, the dildo only a quarter into his ass. It’s not nearly as big as Hop, but it still feels huge inside him – stretching him out for the first time in many months.

“I love it,” Hop admits, eyes filled with adoration. Victor curls his toes and screams as he shoves the rest in, whacking his prostate. Victor trembles as the dildo splits him in two. He squirts precum onto the chair with a loud cry.

“F-fuck,” Victor sobs, tears pricking his eyes as he starts moving it in and out of himself. “Feels so good, Hop.”

“You’re so dirty,” Hop scolds him jokingly. “Already a mess.”

Victor’s mouth hangs open as he salivates over the feeling in his dick and the look on Hop’s face as he scans Victor’s trembling body. He doesn’t move the dildo in or out, just waits patiently for Hop to tell him to fuck himself. Suspense and the desire to be pounded brutally builds up in his prostate gland. They’re both incredibly horny and like this, Victor’s body is excruciatingly honest, his chest heaving as his ass buzzes with pleasure.

“Please,” Victor shouts, dazed by hedonism. “I need you.”

“Start moving, Vic,” Hop says.

He nearly cums just from Hop’s order, squirming in his chair as he rests his heels on the desk and penetrates himself. Victor throws his head back in rapture as he slams into his prostate, chanting Hop’s name again and again.

“Fuck me just like this,” Victor wails unabashedly, his sounds of pleasure bouncing off the walls of the room. “Open me up and make me cum just like this, again and again – I can’t stop thinking about you!”

“How nondescript, Victor,” Hop coos, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. “Tell me more.”

“When we fucked at the hotel, I –” Victor can feel it coming, heat building up in his stomach. “I wanted you to keep going, I wanted to make you feel even better, Hop –”

“Victor, you felt amazing, you’re so amazing,” Hop hisses, his long fingers gliding up and down his dick, over and over. Victor closes his eyes and imagines Hop’s the one thrusting in and out of him, sending shivers up his spine and red-hot sensual tingles through his whole being. 

“I feel so good right now! I wish you were here, _Hop_ ; I want your dick so badly!”

Victor hardly recognizes his bent voice, hypnotized by want and _yes_ and _Hop’s dick_ and _I’m gonna die, it feels so good, Hop_ – he can feel himself unravel, fascinated by each new sensation that sends him even closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Vic, I’m going to cum.”

“I’m close, Hop,” Victor yells, tensing up every single muscle as he rides closer and closer. “I’m gonna – do it now!”

Hop’s loud groan echoes in Victor’s bedroom as they cum at the same time. Hop squirts white-hot semen over the camera and Victor spills all over himself, his shirt ruined by the bodily fluids. It’s gross and sticky, but Victor loves it – loves how Hop loves him. Slowly, Victor slides the glass out of him with a lewd slopping sound.

“Victor, you looked so beautiful,” Hop whispers, clearing the drops of cum away from his screen. “You’re so sexy.”

“You’re beautiful,” Victor responds, still stifled by his dissipating arousal.

“Fuck, I should clean up,” Hop grumbles from the other side, wiping off the camera. “Are you free today?”

“I have a meeting with the leaders,” Victor wheezes.

“Oh, are you gonna tell them today?”

Victor nods.

“Good luck,” Hop chuckles, blowing another kiss. “I love you. Let’s call tonight again, okay?”

Victor gasps out a quiet farewell as he ends the call. His butt kind of hurts and his stomach is bustling already as he comes down from his endorphin high. He’s going to need a shower to get the grime and sweat off him, so he stumbles out of the chair toward the bathroom nearby. 

Somehow, the Wooloo plushie bundled up in his sheets seems to smile at him.

* * *

“I have some news to announce,” Victor says when Raihan’s done talking about Hammerlocke Stadium restorations.

“Cool, go for it,” Raihan yawns. “But make it quick. Leon and I are gonna fuck in the changing room after this.”

“Raihan, _shut up_ ,” Leon hisses. “Not in front of _Allister._ ”

“I’m fifteen now, it’s fine,” the small boy pipes up. Leon elbows Raihan and the dragon-type gym leader’s toothy smile turns into a fanged wince.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Victor continues, “I’m in a relationship with Hop, Leon’s younger brother, and Professor Sonia’s current assistant.”

Marnie cheers from the seat beside Leon. “Congratulations, Vic!”

Leon looks somewhat less amused. “Is this supposed to be news? I thought everyone knew this?”

“Yeah, hasn’t it been like… a few months now?” Raihan muses. Across the table, Milo slams his fist down, pouting at Kabu. Nessa rolls back in her chair as the two lean over her to argue.

“Victor, you confessed first, right?” Milo asks frantically as the older man reaches for Milo’s wallet. 

“Yeah, I confessed first,” he says. Milo grins victoriously and grabs Kabu’s wrist.

“Pay up, Kabu,” he laughs, pulling the man into a hug. He grumbles and forks over ¥50,000, and Milo trills happily, whirling Kabu around and around as Nessa ducks under Kabu’s flailing hands.

“Why didn’t Soni tell me about this?” Nessa mumbles, trying her best not to get hit. “Also, Milo, put him down – he’s going to get a stroke.”

“Sorry!” the buff gym leader says, placing a dizzy Kabu back in his seat.

A tap on his shoulder pulls Victor out of his amusement and into a nervous panic as he turns to face Bede, who stands there with a slight smile.

“You did it, Victor,” Bede whispers, tears pricking his eyes. “I’m happy for you. Congrats.”

The man pulls Victor into a hug, if not to hide his sobs from everyone else – and Victor returns it, patting him on the back. Leon piles onto both of them, wrapping his long arms around both their bodies. Raihan joins them, and eventually, each gym leader falls into the massive huddle – laughing as they embrace each other.

“Victor, I’m happy for you!” Gordie says, his cheek pressed against Victor’s shoulder. “Let’s celebrate with drinks at my mom’s place!” 

Marnie mumbles something about having to go home to Gloria and Piers, so Gordie changes his tune and suggests they head to a Spikemuth bar. His mother can probably fly over on a Corviknight Taxi, he claims – she’s still in good health, after all. Allister asks if he can come along, and Kabu _insists_ that they do karaoke in a family-friendly atmosphere.

From Hammerlocke, they travel east over the impact site and Route 7. Bede doesn’t shed any more signs of sadness as they walk in step with their friends, calmly following the ever-changing conversation. Victor’s almost worried about Bede’s lack of emotional release, but Bede doesn’t seem to be concerned at all.

“Are you alright?” Victor asks as they approach the karaoke house. Bede turns to him with the ghost of a smile on his face.

“I’m fine,” he says, but Victor can hear the lie. “I’m just really happy for you.”

“Are you sure?” Victor asks, but Bede is already heading inside with the rest of the leaders.

The colorful room brimming with retro graphics and techno beats makes Victor’s head pound, but everyone else seems to enjoy it quite a bit. Raihan drinks fruity cocktails and beer like it’s not bad for his liver while Leon rests his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, scrolling through his phone. Gloria and Piers show up in the middle of a Milo-Nessa duet, which Nessa streams to her Chatter followers, begging them to vote on who’s the superior singer. Most people vote Nessa, of course – it’s her audience, after all – but Milo follows behind at 48% to Nessa’s 52%. 

“Ness, I don’t wanna fight you all the time,” Milo laughs, checking his Chatter messages. “Victor, why don’t you follow anyone on Chatter?”

“I don’t control the account,” he shrugs, glancing at Leon. “Think you’ll be able to get me access soon?”

“Just make a private one,” Raihan suggests. “That’s what Leon did – and he called it _RaiLeonFan69420._ Lovely name, don’t you think?”

“Hey!” Leon shouts. “At least no one thinks it’s me, bad_dragonite241!”

“Oh come on, I hardly use that account anymore,” Raihan argues. “Plus, that’s only for livechatting inappropriate things that aren’t league-approved.”

“How do I make an account?” Victor says, pulling out Rotom. The Chatter app is already installed on his phone – but he uses it as a guest. Leon reaches over and taps the “Sign Up” button in the corner.

“Just fill out the form,” Leon says. “Don’t make your username something _too_ obvious.”

“What about _vichop69_ – oh, that’s already taken,” Victor mumbles, disappointed. Bede glares at him.

“Just do something normal,” his friend mutters, rolling his eyes. 

“Okay,” Victor says, and types “ _victoryroad227_ ” in the username field. It’s somehow not taken, so he claims it as his own. “This is my first social media account.”

“You never had one before the challenge?” Raihan muses.

“No, I didn’t think it was necessary and I didn’t do anything interesting,” Victor replies, following Hop first. He sends a message request and a selfie alongside it, writing “love you” to his boyfriend. It’ll probably be a nice surprise when Hop opens it later.

“I’ll follow you,” Bede says, peeking over his shoulder to read his account name. “That’s too obvious, but okay. Maybe call it something else.”

A notification pops up at the bottom of the screen, and Bede’s 50,000 follower verified account adding a literal nobody is enough to make other people’s heads turn. Victor’s already editing his username when he gets an influx of people asking if it’s _Champion Victor_ in his mentions, and in frustration, he changes it to “ _0snomwatcher0_.” Bede scrunches his nose up.

“I won’t ask,” he says. “But Melony will.”

“I’ll ask what?” Melony bellows from the doorway. “Good evening, everyone.”

“Victor just made a Chatter account called zero-Snom-Watcher-zero,” Marnie says as she steals his Rotom, following herself and Gloria. “I’ll follow you back in a second, hold up.”

“You like Snom, Victor?” Melony smiles. “My Frosmoth just hatched a pair yesterday. If you’re interested, I can give you one.”

“Maybe in the future,” Victor laughs. “Eternatus kind of takes up all my time, unfortunately.”

“Oh,” she says, unfazed. “Tell Eternatus I said hi. And congratulations on your relationship. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks,” Victor says as Bede shifts beside him in discomfort. “Leon, do you think I should invite Hop?”

“Nah, he and Sonia were gonna do some blood testing on Raihan’s Duraludon to make sure it’s not dying,” Leon says, sipping a margarita.

“Poor dude coughed up ball bearings on Leon’s Charizard last battle,” Raihan explains, resting his head on Leon’s lap. “I was gonna get an MRI for it done but apparently that costs ¥1,000,000,000,000 – and let’s be real here, who has that kind of money.”

“No one in Galar, but definitely some Unovan billionaires,” Leon sighs, stroking his boyfriend’s hat-hair.

“Speaking of billionaires, did you buy out Macro Cosmos yet?” Victor asks.

“I need like three more percent to own 36% of the company,” Leon says nonchalantly.

“Cool, want my stock?”

“No, I want my own stock,” Leon replies, frowning. “Don’t you want to have investments?”

“I want to get out of the Macro Cosmos business and quit my job,” Victor grumbles, and Bede slams his fist into Victor’s gut as gently as an angry person can.

“Are you kidding me?” Bede hisses. “Don’t you love battling?”

Victor stares at Appletun in his first slot. The poor Pokemon stares at him like it expects him to say yes – but is it even true anymore? Victor hasn’t even battled anyone that makes his heart race like Hop does – and that’s just being honest.

“I don’t care for it anymore,” he admits, and Bede’s jaw drops. “It’s like, I get a bunch of ennui when I fight inexperienced opponents, and then I’m doing nothing for an entire year and just grinding the Battle Tower for Bottle Caps and items to get stronger. But then my Pokémon get too strong and I can’t practice strategy against Wild Area Pokémon. And Hop doesn’t want to battle me anymore, so it’s not fun.”

“You could practice against me,” Bede suggests.

“If you didn’t live in the boonies, maybe I would,” Victor retorts, sticking his tongue out. 

“Ballonlea is _not_ the boonies,” Bede says.

“It’s literally in the middle of a dark forest with a bunch of mushrooms and it’s surrounded by a half-desert half-ruins area.”

“Okay, maybe a little bit,” Bede relents, falling back onto the couch. “Corviknight Taxis don’t even go directly to Ballonlea’s entrance – they have to land _in_ the stadium because that’s the only well-lit area.”

“My point exactly,” Victor says. Bede blows a raspberry at him.

Rotom buzzes and a Chatter message pops up on the screen from Hop. His boyfriend is verified with a little blue checkmark, but he’s informal all the same, sending a kissing selfie back. Victor snaps a pic of Raihan crawling over Leon’s legs to reach the bottle of wine. Allister sits next to Gordie as he rambles about cool rocks near the flirty couple, and Victor saves an image of them too, just for his memory’s sake.

Even though it’s a karaoke bar, no one really drinks except for Raihan and Leon – and no one really sings except for Piers and occasionally Marnie. Underneath the patchwork colors of the ceiling, the gym leaders look like a collection of oddballs – and it’s kind of silly how much everyone sticks out. Victor is average as can be, but he’s so boring compared to everyone else that he feels like he’s the weird one in the bunch. 

There’s a thump on his shoulder – and Bede is knocked to the floor, shouting. Milo laughs as Bede angrily scolds him for throwing around the seat cushions. If Victor squints, he can see a Cherrim-tinted blush on the Fairy-type gym leader’s face, but no one else seems to notice. Milo helps him up anyway, handling the boy gently as he stands up shakily. If Bede can find someone new to like, Victor will support him in his endeavors – as friends should.

“Wipe that dumb look off your face,” Bede snorts, playfully shoving Victor’s shoulder.

“Does Bede have a little crush?” he teases, just quiet enough so that only Bede can hear him. The other man jabs him in the stomach with a finger and Victor giggles at the ticklish touch.

 _“Shut up,”_ Bede hisses, but there’s a smile dancing on his lips. “I’m trying to move on, but you make it so difficult with your foolish antics.”

“Do you like idiots or something?” Victor wonders aloud. Bede scowls at him again.

“How incorrigible,” he mutters.

Victor beams. _Friends are nice to have_. Milestones, new experiences, and parties alike – Victor wants to grow closer to all of the leaders. It’s nice to converse sometimes, and the support is really helpful. And Victor cares about everyone – he wants to comfort them through tears and celebrate through their happiest moments. Being alone isn’t so bad, but being alone with friends is somehow less contradictory than Victor expects.

Unfortunately, it’s getting late into the night – and he should probably head home if he wants to wake up early tomorrow. It’s a free weekend for he and Hop to spend together – and Victor is looking forward to it. Bede dozes off on Milo’s shoulder as Kabu and the farmer boy chat about type advantages – and Victor can finally slip into the night, slinking back to his home to get a good night’s sleep.

But not before calling Hop, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this was a short one. i tried to get as much done but typing is really hard when one of your tendons got yeeted by a kid at your workplace lmao
> 
> hey at least i put some smut in here right? haha.  
> chapter 6 and 8 are looking like they're gonna have some porn but idk about chapter 7 it's a bit of an oof honestly
> 
> anyway please comment and leave kudos: it gives me motivation to keep writing for myself, and for everyone who reads my work too. i really appreciate the support especially since i'm on some hard times nowadays! thank you to those who are reading this: for keeping up with "axiom" and for listening to my ramblings. i really do love hpms/mshp; they're important to me in a lot of ways – so please don't feel afraid to talk to me !


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this house we are horny and sad at the same time

Elegantly gilded leaves fall to the ground, lining the pathway leading to Hop’s front door. Daybreak is best observed alone, but Victor finds himself searching for Hop’s warm hands and his calm breath in the withering darkness. When it comes to their relationship, he and Hop are always in a dead heat – fighting to see who loves more. Victor swears that he loves Hop the most, but Hop insists that his affection is infinitely larger than Victor’s. They try to one-up each other in small ways – romantic gestures kept to themselves. Somehow, there’s never any dramatic developments that tear them apart – and Victor is glad.

It’s bliss when Hop greets him with a kiss and a “good morning.” Hop’s lips are velvety and inviting, and today, he still tastes like bergamot tea. Accompanying their long-lasting embrace is the aroma of lavender – perhaps a new shampoo or perfume to accompany the eucalyptus. Victor’s heart swells when Hop pulls him into the house and kisses him against the door, each second turning into a treasured memory. 

Hop’s face is reddish when they finally break for air, and his lips look so plump and enticing that Victor wants to kiss him another ten times. When Hop beams at Victor’s flustered state, Victor feels elated – but that’s not all. The fluttering of Hop’s eyelashes and the tantalizing lack of distance between their bodies – it’s enough to make Victor want to stay by Hop’s side for the rest of his life.

Obviously, he can’t say these words out loud – but when Hop looks like  _ this, _ it’s hard not to be paralyzed. Everyday, eternity and beyond – if it’s spent with Hop, Victor would be the happiest person in the universe. And when Hop links their hands together and skips up the stairs to his room, Victor wants to return home every day to Hop’s open arms. 

In the saffron light, Hop looks like a bronze statue coated by patina and polished until he shimmers. It’s a duende, an artist’s vision – everything about Hop is perfectly imperfect in all the proper ways. Hop is the moon always at Victor’s side – or the stars always twinkling even though you can’t see them in the daytime. Perhaps Hop is something more constant – like the beating of waves on the icy shores of Circhester Bay, or the sun that rises each day to illuminate Victor’s life. Or maybe Hop is an astrological wonder – a messiah that interferes with satellite signals and confuses Victor’s mortal heart.

“Come inside,” Hop beckons, welcoming Victor into his bedroom.

Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces on Hop’s bed, fusing together. Victor’s position in Hop’s arms inhibits his movement – but it’s okay, because he wouldn’t want to escape Hop’s grip anyway. In the nebulous touch of Hop’s hands, Victor feels fuzzy and small. Nothing else matters when he kisses Hop on the lips – it’s just the two of them expressing their feelings together.

“I was so lonely without you,” Victor admits, rubbing Hop’s soft palms. “I had so much trouble sleeping alone.”

“I missed you too,” Hop whispers into Victor’s hair, tickling his scalp. “You can rest if you want to.”

“No,” Victor squeaks, gripping Hop’s hand tighter. “I don’t want you to be gone when I wake up.”

“I’ll be here,” Hop replies, pecking Victor on the forehead. “We can do whatever you want.”

Victor pauses and thinks about all the times he’s wanted to sob into Hop’s embrace when they were cities away. He can’t even recollect how often he thought of Hop during interviews or during his duties – there are too many distant moments to count. The warmth of sleeping in Hop’s arms and the joy of waking in the morning at Hop’s side are things he doesn’t want to live without for much longer – but he can’t say that in front of Hop.

Can he?

“I don’t want to be the champion anymore,” Victor whispers into Hop’s arms. 

When Hop doesn’t stir, Victor continues reluctantly.

“I want to retire so I can live by your side until the day I die, Hop. I want to be with you – I don’t want to be separated from you anymore. But I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t continue fighting as Galar’s champion,” he says. “So please – let me stay by your side until I have to leave.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Hop confesses, his quiet words mumbled into Victor’s half-off beanie. “I know we have a whole weekend together, but I still want you.”

“Me too,” Victor sobs. “I don’t want to go back to Wyndon. I want to be here with you.”

“Then stay,” Hop begs.

“You know I can’t,” Victor responds through teary eyes. “I want to.”

“We’ll spend as much time as possible together after this cup, okay?” Hop whispers. “I love you so much, Victor.”

“I love you too, Hop,” Victor keens into Hop’s chest, burying his sadness.

Hop soothes Victor through his tender touches, cuddling the wilting misery out of him. Victor rues every breath not taken in Hop’s presence, but inevitably, he’ll be pulled by the current into the blue abyss, far away from Hop’s comforting hugs. Nothing is worse than knowing that their connection is finite – and in mere hours after their severance, the image of Hop will decay in Victor’s mind as he works tirelessly to secure a future for himself.

The championship has lost all meaning for Victor – even though it means everything to the people surrounding him. Instead, the job rips the only thing Victor needs in this world away from him – and he’s left treading water in a Sharpedo-infested ocean. Even if he voices his pain to Hop, even if he communicates how much he misses Hop – Victor can’t make Hop understand. Upon Hop’s chest, Victor rests his head. He can hear Hop’s heartbeat – melodically humming in Victor’s ears. Even if they become one, Victor can never explain the loneliness he carries in his atriums when Hop isn’t by his side. He cries into Hop’s shirt as his boyfriend strokes his back in sympathy.

The healing power of Hop’s hands never fails to amaze Victor. Hop wipes away Victor’s tears until they fade from existence, reinforcing Victor’s resolve with his support. He remedies all of Victor’s woe and rue, washing his sin and shadows away. Hop is a million-word-long rhapsody that Victor loves listening to. Whimsical and glimmering, Hop’s eyes blossom into chrysanthemums in Victor’s mind, spurning adoration and longing. 

He kisses Hop again, sealing away his sorrow in favor of euphoria. Victor drowns in Hop’s lips, consumed by their every bare-skinned touch. No ephemeris can predict the course of Victor’s swinging emotions, rocking back and forth like a pendulum – but Hop can read his mind like he’s charted it many times before. He meets Victor at every movement, lapping at his neck and purring into his jugular right when Victor wants him to.

“I love you,” Victor mumbles, the vibrations of his voice sinking into Hop’s ocean-filled bones. With salty eyes, they stare at each other like their love is just beginning. Even though Victor knows that it’s been a while since their love first budded, he wants to feel Hop against his skin in foreign ways. He wants Hop to peel his layered walls off and reach into his heart until their beings merge – but no amount of contact will let Victor achieve a true understanding of Hop.

“I love you too,” Hop responds, sinking his teeth into Victor’s electric skin. Thrill overwhelms Victor as he lets Hop gnaw at his most vulnerable parts. He trusts Hop to hold him tightly, to care for him endlessly, and protect him from the world’s prying eyes. It’s a feeling similar to reliance but still so far removed – and Victor lets Hop shape their situation. 

Hop’s hair is the color of deep purple plums and lisianthus, billowing out as Victor runs his hands through. Silken to the touch and naturally clustered together, Hop’s locks are quite beautiful. Like everything else about Hop, they’re cared for and properly styled. Victor almost feels guilty for messing up Hop’s hair – but he looks even more handsome with his bangs spindling around his face.

Hop’s eyes are umber yet stunning nonetheless. While Victor’s distracted, Hop hikes up Victor’s shirt and kisses his pecs. Victor makes eye contact with Hop in mock-anger, but he can’t bring himself to nudge Hop off when he licks Victor’s areola. Intense orbs of golden-brown light pierce into Victor’s soul so powerfully that he can’t look away. With passion dancing in his eyes, Hop taunts him, flicking at Victor’s nipple. The abrupt action elicits a moan from Victor, and Hop smirks like he’s won the lottery.

Victor can’t deny Hop’s burning desire or his own throbbing want – and slowly, he unravels beneath Hop. He translates his hope-filled thoughts into liberating acceptance, stripping his shirt like he’s molting. Under Hop’s searing hands and his calloused palms, Victor feels lucky. Most people aren’t even half as amazing as Hop is – strong and charismatic and courageous, Hop stands out amongst the sea of people in so many ways.

As Hop presses kisses to Victor’s stomach, Victor fiddles with the back of Hop’s shirt, lifting it up to expose smooth, dark skin. He grazes against Hop’s neck when he discards the fabric somewhere on the ground, tracing over Hop’s muscular shoulders. Somehow, Victor’s been waiting for this moment his entire life without even knowing it – Hop’s fingers against his achingly red complexion, their scents mixing and colliding, their tears pooling and merging as they run down – everything is so right.

Victor and Hop shed their garments and return to each other – burning up against bare skin. Somehow, it’s been so long that Victor’s forgotten how to waltz alongside Hop, but he makes his own way, carving new marks into Hop’s unblemished skin. Fear fills his esophagus when he strokes Hop’s dick – but the line between terror and excitement blurs too easily, and Victor already wants to engulf Hop in his mouth. Victor flips them both over, straddling Hop’s stomach as he licks at the head of Hop’s dick.

“Hips over my face, Victor,” Hop insists. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

Victor obliges him and lets Hop do as he wants. He takes Hop into his mouth when his boyfriend finishes adjusting their position, and Hop groans into Victor’s balls, sending tingles up his spine. Nothing is weirder than feeling Hop prod at Victor’s groin with his tongue as he bites at Victor’s thighs intermittently. It’s oddly arousing and kind of disgusting – but if Hop likes it, he’ll do his best to enjoy it too –

Victor groans as Hop shoves a soaked digit inside his anus, complaining around Hop’s cock. It’s odd being penetrated by fingers and sucked off at the same time – he doesn’t know which way to thrust or what feels better. Victor’s saliva dribbles onto Hop’s dick, lubricating it enough for him to shove it down his throat. It’s difficult to breathe around the sheer size, but it’s much better than last time, Victor reminisces. He nearly chokes around Hop at the thought, his neck burning with phantom pain as his muscles contract. Hop groans into Victor’s left inner thigh, suckling and biting until it bruises slightly. Being marked is a massive turn-on – and Victor nearly crushes Hop’s head when he brings his thighs together from the pleasure.

Victor is weak in Hop’s arms when he’s yanked off of Hop’s dick and forced back underneath his lover. His chin is still coated in a thin layer of drool, but Hop doesn’t seem to mind as he kisses him again, drinking in Victor’s fazed state. Hop brushes against the swell of Victor’s behind as he lifts one of Victor’s legs up, rubbing at his entrance again. Victor wants to submit, he wants to melt into pieces underneath Hop – but the loneliness festers in his chest, polluting the moment.

He wants to be Hop’s first priority – but he can’t be, he’s reminded, as Hop’s fingers undo the knots in his stomach. Misery drifts to the surface of Victor’s skin where Hop’s warmth lingers too long. He’s burdened by the weight of his solid platinum throne even when he’s supposed to be relishing every second with Hop – and it hurts. Decomposing in Victor’s heart is his weakening willpower – and even through kisses and whispered words of love, Victor’s emotions sink into numbness as his body weeps with pleasure.

He wants to prioritize Hop – but he can’t be, he realizes, as the absence of Hop’s lips in his abstract soul blisters blindly. He’s flooded by emotion, half blocked out by despair, half bound by hope. Victor is defined by the paradox of a normal, average John Doe in a leadership position – and the aporia prevents him from everything he wants to be. Hop’s trailing fingers spin around his shaft as their breaths fill the room – but it’s too quiet for comfort.

“I want to feel you,” Victor declares. “I want to feel whole with you.”

And Hop looks back at him like he feels the same way, empty and emotionally barren – like every thought transmits at each point of contact. Desolate, isolated – they reach for each other, scrambling for fragments of solace in their despondent worlds. They’ve been deprived of a connection for so long that this emotional, foolish sex feels so insanely out of character. Still yet, Victor’s heart bleeds only for Hop, folds for Hop, unwinding at each delayed cataclysm.

“I love you so much,” Hop whispers, kissing Victor’s scarred thighs and massaging his scabbed-over wounds. “I missed you so much.”

“Take me, please,” Victor begs.  _ Before I break _ .

Hop pushes into him at an excruciatingly slow pace, and if Victor wasn’t crying already, he’d be whimpering and begging for more. He pulls Hop into another kiss, tasting his salt-laden tears. He loves Hop so badly it’s tearing him in two – but he doesn’t even care, moaning and sobbing under his boyfriend’s gentle caresses. Loneliness doesn’t dissipate easily – and Victor knows that – but it still aches all the same when Hop slams it out of him. 

Victor’s never believed – but Hop is his savior through sorrow and grief. Each kiss cleanses his sins, erasing the graffiti on his heart’s fortress walls. Through rubble, through renovations, through times of war and pity-filled dreams, Hop has always had a place in his chambers. Suspended in time, Victor’s body and soul seem to fray at the seams as Hop makes his home inside of Victor. Delight, satisfaction, and fulfillment fill his stomach, but white-hot nothingness fills his mind.

He can feel himself droop as he orgasms, surrendering to the tranquility around him. Hop collapses next to him with a broken sound, half-pleased and half-mournful. They wrap around each other, suturing the space between them. Becoming one through arousal isn’t enough – Victor wants to convey how much he loves Hop through words, too. Although he searches, the ocean is endless and forever deep – and Victor’s sonar doesn’t seem to locate any consistent phrases.

Hop’s breaths grow still as the two lay side-by-side, glued together. Their tears evaporate underneath the midday rays, but their inconsolable spirits remain steeped in loneliness. The constant ticking of Hop’s heart lulls Victor into a light sleep. Victor wants to wake up with Hop by his side – and for the first time in his life, Victor prays to the sun in the sky.

* * *

“Good evening, sleepyhead,” Hop murmurs as Victor stirs in his grasp. Dusk hovers over the two of them, finding shelter in each other.

“Good morning,” Victor replies, cheek squished against Hop’s naked chest. He’s aware of the grime between his legs and the scent of their musk suspended in the air, but Victor doesn’t regret a single thing between him.

“Do you want to get dinner?” Hop asks, making no attempt to get up. Victor shakes his head.

“I just wanna lay here with you for a little while longer,” Victor says, yawning. 

Twilight-dyed Hop is gorgeous, he notices as Hop leans back into the sheets, reaching for Victor’s hand with a smile. Through the trees, light dances up Hop’s shoulders like flowers growing on vines. Hop’s shadow treks under Victor’s skin, merging with his mind. Victor wants to pull Hop close, clutch his own hips and stretch himself over his lover’s girth – but he’s too tired to move.

“Hey, you’re poking my stomach,” Hop giggles. “You wanna go another time or what?”

“‘M tired,” Victor sighs, but he throws the sheets off him anyway. The night air gives him goosebumps as it sweeps over his skin. “You gotta do all the work.”

“Making love is a mutual effort,” Hop laughs, diving into Victor’s arms anyway. Hop’s body is firm and strong – and it encourages Victor to praise Hop until he overheats from embarrassment.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Victor says as Hop leans in for a kiss. “I feel like I can stare into your soul sometimes.”

“They’re no different from yours,” Hop replies, smooching Victor once more. “Except your eyes are even more lovely.”

“This is about you,” Victor pouts, sliding a hand around Hop’s dick. “Since I’m physically exhausted, I might as well verbally tell you my feelings.”

“Sounds good,” Hop whispers, already licking Victor's collarbone.

“I wanna breathe in every bit of you,” Victor gasps as Hop bites him, “and I wanna become one with you.”

Hop chirps into his cells questioningly, intrigued by Victor’s statement. His hair tickles Victor’s neck as he glides his tongue down Victor’s chest, moving all the way to his navel. As the two respirate the same air, Victor tries to formulate romantic sentences. Thinking is difficult when his boyfriend is only a few seconds away from inhaling his dick.

“I want you to permanently love me,” Victor confesses. Indelibly – that’s the word. It’s a selfish ideology, but Victor never wants this feeling to be torn from him. He doesn’t want to be erased from Hop’s heart or cut out from Hop’s life – he wants to stay connected for the rest of eternity.

“I already do,” Hop smiles.

It’s so honest that Victor implodes, fragmenting inward. He can’t control the fractured wheezes that escape his throat or the simmering-hot seawater that bursts from his eyes. Hop looks at him with concern etched into his features as Victor curls into himself, wracked by sobs.

“Vic? What’s wrong?” Hop asks, voice frantic with panic. 

Victor laughs to himself through his falling tears. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Hop replies. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” Victor says, drawing Hop closer. “I wanna feel you inside me again.”

The dust in Victor’s deserted chest settles instantly, Hop’s oceanic heart splashing in and cascading over sandy dunes. Hop is an oasis, mending and hydrating Victor’s skin with each damp kiss. He’s a dreamcatcher that captivates and embodies Victor’s goals, saving every moment and transcribing them into reality. Hop’s mouth on his, the spiraling heat stimulating new, unpredictable movements – Victor wants to tumble into this feeling headfirst.

Skilled hands work Victor to the core, urging on his most primitive desires. A flick of the wrist sends Victor skyrocketing, and he can already feel his fluids creeping down his thighs and butt. Passion blooms between their intertwined legs, and Victor’s quiet vocalizations grow louder and louder.

“Can I – touch myself, please,” Victor stammers, legs trembling from Hop’s movements. “Inside – I want to put my fingers inside myself.”

“Of course,” Hop croons, taking Victor’s fingers into his mouth. Embarrassingly enough, he twirls his tongue around them, coating them with saliva. “That’s your lube. Let me watch how well you do.”

Victor presses his index finger to his pucker, sliding it inside with ease. It doesn’t even ache a little – and he can add one more, scissoring himself open freely. He’s still loose from their previous session, but it can’t hurt to prepare more, so Victor fingers himself, rubbing at his sweet spot slightly. He spreads his fingers apart just enough to add a third, haphazardly fucking himself until he can’t glean any more pleasure from his own inexperienced movements.

“My hole is ready for you,” Victor says, eyes trained on Hop’s dick. 

“I wonder how many fingers you can fit inside,” Hop says, ignoring him. “Should we try fisting one day?”

“Okay, but not today,” Victor replies, flipping over on his stomach. “Can we fuck like this?”

“Do you really have to ask?” Hop chuckles, lifting Victor’s hips up slightly. 

He aligns his dick with Victor’s hole, and Victor’s dick twitches in anticipation. He immerses himself inside Victor at an uncomfortably amazing angle. Without much effort, Hop’s dick glides right over Victor’s prostate. Victor yelps at the ecstasy thundering up his spine and through his whole body.

Unable to see Hop, Victor’s forced to imagine his boyfriend’s face. He doesn’t know if it’s one of arousal or one of love, but somehow not knowing adds a new excitement to their intercourse. Hop’s only shallowly screwing him right now – and Victor can tell because he’s not absolutely losing his mind. He drops his head down and watches as Hop only partially makes his way in. When Hop notices Victor’s peeking, he plunges all the way into Victor, his sticky thighs slapping against Victor’s ass. Watching the large cock burrow into him makes Victor feel like he’s finally Hop’s all over again – and each thrust is like a new note in their melody of sexual acts. 

“I can’t believe you’re filling me with such a huge dick,” Victor pants into Hop’s pillow. Hop’s hands are firm on his hips, and Victor can feel Hop’s thumbs digging into his pelvis with such strength that it’ll probably bruise by tomorrow.

“I can’t believe your ass is so loose for me,” Hop responds, keeping up the pace. “You’re accepting all of me without any trouble. It’s kinda cute seeing you squirm beneath me like this.”

“Ha-ah, Hop,” Victor moans, reaching for his erection. “I wanna cum already, but… you can keep going.”

“Seriously?” Hop asks incredulously as Victor jerks himself off. “I’m gonna keep fucking you until you collapse.”

“Don’t care,” Victor whimpers. He needs release now – and with Hop’s throbbing dick knocking against his prostate, it’s going to come much quicker than before. Now aware of how badly he wants Hop to snap him in two, Victor edges himself closer and closer with his sloppy kneading. He creams all over his stomach with a loud, high-pitched squeal, splattering all over the bed sheets beneath them. Victor rides out his orgasm, moving back onto Hop’s dick as he falters in pleasure.

“That was quick,” Hop cerebrates from behind. 

He’s still moving in and out as Victor spasms, begging for more as he loses himself on cloud nine. Victor thinks about Hop’s lopsided smile tainted with lust. He thinks about Hop’s warm hands exploring every inch of his body. He thinks about how Hop must feel, buried inside Victor as he cums – does it feel good? Does he enjoy it? It’s almost surprising that Victor gets off on Hop’s felicity, but he loves Hop, fancies him – Victor wants Hop to find a paradise inside of their desire. It’s enthralling as he unfetters into the mattress, uninhibited by restraint.

“More!” Victor wails, bucking back onto Hop. “Feels good! Need more! Don’t stop!”

“Keep doing that and I’m gonna cum inside you,” Hop hisses. “Then I’ll have to fuck you in the shower too so I can clean you out.”

“Yes!” Victor screams as Hop rams into him.  _ “Yes! Fuck! Yes, yesyesyes – I’m going to cum again!” _

“Holy shit, Vic,” Hop groans, stuttering into Victor. Both of them are painfully close to release – and they scale the peaking exhilaration together. Victor blubbers as he rides a dry orgasm, his balls stinging painfully as he tries to ejaculate again. Hop shouts when he cums inside of Victor – boiling liquid surging into Victor’s colon. It feels heavenly when Hop pulls out and Victor can feel the semen trickle down his thigh. 

“I love you,” Victor slobbers. Hop slumps into him, bringing them both down onto the bed.

“I love you too,” Hop replies, brushing away Victor’s bangs.

Victor nearly shoves his tongue down Hop’s throat in a display of affection. They kiss until their limbs quake with fatigue. Victor sees Hop as irresistible from every vantage point. No temporal being could resist Hop’s abiding visage – and Victor is no angel.

Hop is Victor’s answer to the meaning of life. He wants to outstretch his hands toward Hop’s spirit and synthesize a new love. If Victor could have a second chance to redo everything, or a chance to renounce his championship, he’s not sure he would take it. Because Hop’s eyes are 24-carat gold to a chrysophilist – they’re blood diamonds in a war-plagued zone, or heroin spindling through an addict’s veins. He doesn’t want to give up because of Hop’s hope-filled whispers next to his ear. 

Hop paints his broken pieces and breaks down the walls between them with his fervor. Hop saves him day after day with his violent yearning – a trance-inducing echo across Victor’s mouth. Victor’s prickly dreams pull away the skin of his skull, climbing into his head and enabled by Hop’s restorative hands. Hop repairs the torn seams between them and sews a new definition of love into their symphony. They become each other as they sleep, fusing at their joints.

Victor’s soul is worn from constant laceration, but the lesions left by Macro Cosmos’s demanding work disappear when Hop handles him. He wants to nestle in an interstellar sanctuary, circompassed by Hop’s galactic voice. It reverberates through his arteries and initiates angiogenesis, his vessels ingraining themselves deeper into his muscles. The harmonic trill of Hop’s timbre spreads over Victor’s enduring organs, sparking life in Victor’s deepest trenches.

In the canyon of his mind, Hop streams through, carving importance into Victor’s being. They shape each other as forces of nature – etching love into mountain cliffs and writing their wishes in the sand on the shoreline. Victor’s heart yields to Hop’s lungs – surrendering to their love’s allure. With closed eyes and blanket-covered bodies, they huddle together and succumb to their humanity. In this world, Victor is just a kid from the middle of nowhere who defeated the undefeatable through luck. But in Hop’s arms, Victor has a meaning – he has a figure, and he’s adored.

As they bask in the midnight moonlight together, Victor finally feels peaceful. Unbridled by judgment, Victor bears his own identity underneath the lunar spotlight. He nods off with Hop’s hand resting on the small of his back, drizzling into a pacific slumber. They regulate each other, locking out the crowd’s cheers as they build a chrysalis to hide away. Secluded in Hop’s room, they cycle through life together – growing and dying, wilting and decaying, and finally sowing their spirits between the cracked and dry leaves that cover the orchard’s floor. Their heat fades as their hearts slow together in rest, beating like two metronomes in sync.

* * *

Every section of Victor’s lower body aches like it’s been thrashed. Hop clasps his arms around Victor like he’s a limp doll, staring into Victor’s enamel eyes. Under rumbling light, Victor stirs, finally meeting Hop’s drained but dreamy smile.

“Morning,” Victor whispers. His hair is still slightly damp from last night’s late shower, and he’s sure it’s a mess, but he really doesn’t care.

“Good morning,” Hop replies, kissing Victor. Both their lips are chapped, but they weld together anyway, soldering at each point of contact.

“I’m hungry,” Victor murmurs. “I hurt all over.”

“I’ll make some tea,” Hop grunts, sliding off the bed. The loss of warmth makes Victor’s flesh cry out for more – but Victor knows he’ll feel Hop again soon enough.

It takes too long for Hop to return, even though he can hear water running downstairs. Victor rummages through his luggage for a clean shirt – and he’s only remembered to pack extra underwear and pants. Sighing, he searches through Hop’s drawers instead. Surely, Hop wouldn’t mind if Victor wore his clothing, so Victor slips on a baggy black t-shirt that covers his private parts. He tip-toes to the kitchen without making a sound. Hop stares blankly into a container, observing the object inside. As Victor approaches, he can’t resist the desire to hug Hop from behind.

“Surprise,” Victor giggles, pressing his nose to the nape of Hop’s neck. Hop jolts in shock, but he relaxes just as quickly as he tenses up.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Hop scolds. His voice is sweet even though he reprimands Victor, and he only breaks away so he can pull Victor into another kiss.

“What kind of tea are you making?” Victor asks, tasting Hop’s raw lips.

“I don’t know,” Hop says, showing Victor the bundle of dried white flowers inside the box. “I was thinking chamomile, since you said your back hurts. I haven’t been grocery shopping lately – so maybe we could just have toast.”

“Chamomile is fine,” Victor says. “I’ll have whatever you make.”

Hop dumps the flowers into two separate cups and pours the near-boiling water over the herbs. Steam rises like static snow in reverse, creating jubilant white clouds that loom over their heads. As the petals sink to the bottom, Victor sneaks a glance at Hop – only to meet his warm gaze. Just like the color that seeps into the liquid, Hop’s eyes are faithful and emotive. Victor can feel Hop’s cool breath against his parched lips as they meet instinctively.

“I think the tea is ready,” Hop grins, tilting Victor’s chin to steal a second kiss.

“Should we sit down?” Victor asks as Hop takes the drinks into his hands. It’s hardly a question and more of a suggestion, but Hop nods anyway, letting Victor sink into one of the seats at the dining table. There’s only three seats instead of four – without Hop’s grandfather, things have become a little quieter. It’s just Leon, Hop, and their mother living underneath this roof, but only Hop returns home every night.

“Don’t you get lonely?” Victor murmurs, sliding his hand against the lacquer. 

“Sometimes,” Hop admits. “But I usually put on one of your old matches while I eat. Hearing your voice lets me pretend that you’re here with me.”

“You don’t need to pretend today,” Victor says. “You have the real thing with you.”

“I wish I could have the real thing with me everyday,” Hop laughs.

Victor pauses, cup midway to his mouth.

“I’d like that, too,” he says quietly.

And Hop’s smile sprouts a feeling of endearment in his chest, sparkling in the rising sun.

“Good,” Hop says, and he kisses him again.

Over forgotten brews and burning toast, Victor laughs. Chamomile tastes like apple with an earthy tone, steeped in dreams and everlasting love. It’s almost as delicious as the tang of bergamot, but it’s not quite his favorite.

At least, it isn’t until he tastes it on Hop’s lips. 

Again and again, Victor learns how to show appreciation. Hop returns his efforts with flattering compliments that turn him pinker than a Cherrim. Hop is the paradoxical bitter dessert and the freezing-cold sauna. He’s the red moon during the lunar eclipse, the fleeting life of a night-blooming cereus, and the hydrothermal vents in the furthest ocean trenches. Hop is the origin of Victor’s glee, spinning webs of happiness to capture Victor inside.

And it works. Hop is as constant as the ever-returning golden plover to Alolan shores. He’s a mythical fantasy; he’s the primordial soup that fills Victor’s brain. He’s a serotonin injection into Victor’s bloodstream, or liquid nitrogen surrounding Victor’s worst enemies, crystallizing them so they can shatter.

“I love you,” Victor repeats until his words won’t work. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted. I can’t imagine life without you, so let me stay by your side until I crumble. Let’s run away together – let’s escape this place.”

“You can’t,” Hop whispers, even though they both want to. “You have people to prove yourself to and duties that can’t be left unfinished.”

“Then let’s disappear when this is over,” Victor begs. “I can’t be the champion forever, Hop. You’ll get your degree in less than a month. We could live a peaceful life, outside of the public eye, and I could love you every day.”

“Who could replace you?” Hop says. “There’s no one who even comes  _ close _ to defeating you.”

“There’s bound to be someone,” Victor says. “I hate Macro Cosmos, Hop. They’re killing me. I can’t be apart from you anymore – please.”

“We’re together right now, aren’t we?” Hop comforts him. “Isn’t this enough?”

_ Is it? _

_ “I’m _ not enough,” Victor chokes. “I  _ can’t _ be enough.”

“To me, you’re more than enough,” Hop says. “Why do you feel that way?”

“I work 70 hours per week normally,” Victor admits, “and I can’t do it anymore. I need you by my side.”

“Just hold out a little longer,” Hop coos.

“I can’t do this, Hop,” Victor repeats. “I can’t go back to Wyndon.”

Hop holds him like he’s been deprived of touch his whole life. Victor can’t cry or explain or try to make things better. Victor is stressed as hell and burning out. He’s a smoldering candle; a snuffed-out flame clinging on to life – and no matter what he does, the board seems to be against him. It’s pointless trying to argue with people playing puppeteer unless you want to become the stagemaster yourself – and Victor’s not cut out for that. He just wants to be a barnacle, sticking to Hop’s surface until the day he perishes.

“Stay here a little longer,” Hop says. “For dinner, if you want.”

“Okay,” Victor replies.

And maybe everything will be okay, he thinks as they watch their Pokèmon frolic in the autumn leaves. Cinderace and Rillaboom watch as Bisharp cleaves dead logs in two, contributing to the detritus on the ground. Dubwool and Appletun seem like they’re having fun as they race each other, their stubby legs carrying their chunky bodies so far. 

Hop is beautiful under all different kinds of lighting, and Victor loves him. Jade jewelry, indigo moons, crimson red sunlight – all of these things come together to form Victor’s idea of Hop. He’s a rarity in many ways, but he feels so familiar. Pictures don’t present his image properly – they warp Hop’s natural beauty and flatten out his prominent features. Of course Hop is photogenic regardless, but Victor prefers the real thing to any magazine printout. 

Hop is the foundation on which the principles of Victor’s halls are built on. He’s a maxim – an apothegm – he’s steady and stable and everything that Victor needs to survive. Hop has the duality of oxygen – too little of him and Victor will suffocate, too much and Victor will lyse. Victor worries about his worth constantly when he’s not in Hop’s arms. He lives through life like a phantom until Hop raises his spirits. He drowns in societal pressures until Hop hides him away.

“I love you,” Victor whispers into one of Hop’s spare jackets as he leaves. The wool-lined outerwear smells like Hop. It’s a little loose around the shoulders, but it fits otherwise. Hop seems quite satisfied with Victor’s outfit change. “Do you want me to mail this back when I get to Wyndon?”

“I love you too,” Hop says. “And no – keep it until we meet again.”

Victor kisses Hop as the equinox comes to a close, marking the shortening of days as winter comes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6 chapters down, 2 more to go! i hope you're as excited for the finale as I am!  
> i don't think the tags of this fic spoil too much so. hopefully it's a pleasant surprise!
> 
> tell me what you thought of this chapter below! it helps motivate me!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You and me against the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: mentions of drowning and suffocation. reader discretion advised.

Pancakes taste delicious when they’re slathered in butter and doused in maple syrup, but Victor enjoys his breakfasts the most when Hop is at his side. 

Hop’s house is typically silent during the mornings, but whenever Victor stays the night, the kitchen always bustles after sunrise as they dine together. It’s the last weekend before the Challenger Cup begins, the fourth Victor’s staying at Hop’s place, and the third time Victor’s defied the board in such a short period of time. His main excuse is that he feels homesick in Wyndon, but Victor really just needs Hop to recharge his motivation. The board only relents after he passes out on the floor mid-training and it takes him two hours to feel better. Arrhythmia is a curse and also a blessing in these moments, and Victor thanks his doctor when she procures a doctor’s note prescribing  _ relaxation. _

Cinderace and Rillaboom are playing kickball outside, and Bisharp sulks further away, watching them with envy.  _ Her blades have always prevented her from having fun, _ Victor thinks.  _ I wonder if she can put something on them so she can play. _ While Victor is distracted, Hop steals a slice of pancake from Victor’s plate. As he slides it onto his fork, the metal makes a large scraping sound, and Victor jumps when he realizes that Hop is sneaking bites of his meal. Victor lunges for Hop’s fork to take the fluffy golden chunk of goodness back, but before he can, Hop devours his prize, grinning triumphantly at Victor.

“Yummy,” Hop giggles. It’s hard to be upset at such an adorable face – but Victor is strong-willed and he will  _ not _ give in.

“I was going to eat that,” Victor pouts. “Give it back.”

“Mmm, no can do,” Hop laughs. “I already ate it.”

“You fiend,” Victor gasps in mock horror, standing up with an overdramatic clatter. Neither can hold in their laughter as Victor pinches Hop’s cheeks, squishing him. “I’m so mad at you right now.”

“You love me,” Hop says.

“I do love you,” Victor replies. “Hey, you have some crumbs on your face.”

It’s cheesy, but Hop cranes his neck so Victor doesn’t have to lean down as much to kiss him. Hop’s lips are sweeter than even the most refined powdered sugar, and they’re softer than a rice cake.  _ This is better than anything else, _ Victor thinks, opening his eyes just to peek at Hop’s flushed image. Hop’s eyes are gazing back at him, and the flutter of his eyelashes ignites Victor’s soul, making him burn up. 

Suddenly, Victor’s Rotom begins to chirp – and Victor reluctantly pulls away from Hop. The caller ID is Leon – so they don’t have to hide their relationship, but Victor sits at the opposite end of the table anyway. Hop sighs, disappointed at the interruption, but he nods when Victor hovers over the “accept” button with a wary expression.

When the camera on the other end loads in, Victor’s heart stops.

It’s not Leon at all – it’s  _ a board member, _ one Victor’s not familiar with at all – and the man scowls when he sees them. Victor glances over at Hop. He looks terrified – like a Wimpod cowering under a Pangoro’s vicious glare. Victor forces a smile, a perfect  _ “don’t worry, nothing is wrong” _ on the tip of his tongue.

“So the rumors are true,” the member muses. “I thought about asking you myself, but I think this just confirms it.”

“Pardon?” Victor says. This can’t be right – Leon would never give this person his phone willingly; they haven’t been recognized in public when they go on dates – what rumors could he possibly be talking about?

“Duskpatch posted an article,” the man drawls, showing them a collection of photos. The first one is a picture of Hop and Victor entering the Hulbury Seafood Restaurant a few months ago. There are ten different snapshots of Victor riding Corviknight above the Wild Area in the direction of Postwick. Victor’s stomach flips like the pancakes they made for breakfast, and his heart palpitates when he glances at Hop’s forced smile.

“So what?” Hop asks, crossing his arms. If this was any other moment, Victor would crack up at his Inteleon-like pose – but the low whirr Rotom emits kills any seeds of laughter before they have a chance to grow.

“You two are in a  _ homosexual _ relationship,” the board member hisses at Hop, “It’s absolutely disgusting.” 

Fury flares up inside Victor’s chest.  _ Don’t speak to him that way, _ Victor wants to scream.  _ Talk to me however you like, but don’t you  _ dare _ insult Hop. _

“You must be mistaken,” Hop says, dropping his attention back to his soggy breakfast in an attempt to deflect the claim. He prods at the quickly-cooling pancake with his fork, and Victor can barely notice how Hop’s hand trembles.

“I know I’m correct,” the man says cooly, waving the images around. “Victor, you should be ashamed of yourself. Dating another man is a blemish on your title. There’s no denying that you two have been seeing each other.”

“We have not,” Hop says, snarling, “We’re friends and nothing more –”

Victor blinks.

“I only see him as a friend,” Hop continues. “I don’t love him.”

Whatever joy left in their shared morning disappears as Victor’s breathing stops.

_ Hop doesn’t love him. _

Doubt prickles at the skin just under his eyes. Victor gathers every last drop of self-assurance he has. It takes all the glucose in his bloodstream to stop himself from breaking down. Victor is weak from years of stress and months of isolation. He knows it’s a lie; he knows that they love each other, that they’re more than friends, that he’s Hop’s most important person – but the rejection still bleeds.

“Is that true, Victor?” the man asks. Victor nods, reserved. He can’t hear what the man says next, and he’s not looking, either – he waits for Hop to turn back and give him a comforting look – a signal to relieve the churning in his chest. White noise eliminates the sound of their voices, and Victor’s chest aches and his eyes are watering and he can’t  _ breathe. _

_ Please, Hop, look at me, _ Victor begs mentally,  _ I love you so much. You love me too, right? _ Hop’s statement echoes in Victor’s head, repeating harsh words until Victor can’t bear the agony anymore. He tears his eyes away at the worst moment – the man shows an image of Victor wearing Hop’s jacket, and Victor instantly checks to see Hop staring back at him.

Hop’s saying something, but Victor can’t make out the words anymore. Emotions swarm in Victor’s head and push Hop out to sea. Victor can’t tell if Hop’s angry or sad, but Hop’s hurt comes through the wavelengths of his voice. He wants to apologize for his carelessness – but his lungs fail on him.

Before he can register Hop’s absence, his boyfriend is already out the door, leaving Victor all alone.

_ I want to live by your side until the day I die. _

Kisses in between battles, watching Hop sketch foreign Pokémon and making out under covers.

_ I want to be with you. _

Falling asleep during calls, days spent in the Wild Area, their bodies pressed together, and warm showers in rainy weather.

_ Don’t leave me, Hop. _

“I was going to suggest you break up with that –” Victor tones the word out instantly, but the man’s laughter breaks through the storm. “It seems he’s already left you, though. A just punishment for your sins, don’t you think? You can still be forgiven if you apologize to the public.”

Victor doesn’t know what to say. Luckily, the door swings open behind the board member and a  _ very pissed-off _ Leon storms toward the man. Before Victor can see what happens next, Leon’s phone powers off. Victor stares at his own face for a grand total of two seconds before he hangs up. He grabs his bag and stumbles to his feet, turning to the door with the shards of his shattered heart in his hands.

_ I have to go after Hop. _

Bisharp looks at him with concern in her eyes when Victor sprints past his Pokémon. Rillaboom is gone with Hop’s disappearance, and Cinderace holds the rubber ball in her paws sadly. Victor feels wetness roll down his cheeks. He doesn’t know where to go, what’s in front of him, or where he’s running, but Victor doesn’t stop moving. 

Victor’s scared for the first time.

What was Hop saying? Why did he leave Victor alone? Where did Hop go? Does Hop hate him now? Will he still want to be with Victor? He can’t answer the questions flooding him. Each anxious thought makes his chest tighten, his breathing labored. Victor can’t lose Hop, not when he loves Hop this much, not when Hop is the only dream Victor’s ever had. 

_ He’s left you already. _

Victor doesn’t want to accept it – he won’t accept it. Hop wouldn’t just leave; he had a valid reason for deserting Victor. Beneath his feet, Victor can feel the crackle of dead leaves and the crunching of broken twigs. He doesn’t want to cut the thread of fate between them – he doesn’t want to be severed from Hop. Victor recognizes the foggy haze surrounding him even through blurry vision.

The Slumbering Weald.

“Hop!” Victor howls. “Where are you?”

There’s no response, but Victor presses on. Several eternities pass and he’s beginning to feel desperate, jumping at every shadow in hopes that it’s Hop. It never is, and Victor’s tired of it – he can’t reach the heart of the forest like this. Nothing is clear, and he’s incredibly winded, but he has to find Hop and fix things.

He has to push forward.

Branches hang low, scratching at his face and shoulders as he forces his way through the brush. Normally, the light would leak through the canopy in beams that speckle the tree trunks, but today, the glisten is gone. Darkness seeps through the forest, embedding itself into Victor’s cracked resolve. He fights back against the cackling corners of his mind – Victor doesn’t know what else to do.

There’s no light in his life without Hop.

With each step forward, the ground crumbles behind him. Turning back is impossible, and there’s no point in giving up. He understands it now – Hop’s fear of coming out in front of millions of strangers. Being outed by a stranger is enough to weaken his resolve, so a full-on admission to Galar would hypothetically be atrocious.

_ I want to tell the world how much I love you. _

Victor is foolish. He loves Hop, he loves Hop’s gentle caress against his bruised skin and knotted muscles, he loves the stolen kisses shared in hidden realms just beyond the public’s reach, he loves Hop’s thoughtful meals and cuddling in bed – he loves  _ Hop _ and  _ all _ of Hop. At worst, Hop is a man with an empty teacup, needing reassurance and praise to heal his broken ego. Victor will fill it until it overflows, over and over, no matter how many times Hop dumps it out onto the weeds just off of his porch instead of accepting his heart. At best, Hop is a supernova, phantasmal and ghostly, so bright that he’s hard to hold. He blasts through his work and his studies for  _ Victor, _ just to see his face one more time – and he’s  _ successful _ in all the ways Victor can’t be. 

_ “I don’t need your love to be happy – I mean that would be nice, and I really like you and all, but you’re just – I don’t expect it from you, so don’t feel pressured to do anything for me.” _

Victor lied when he said those words. Maybe he told the truth back then, but Victor can’t move on now, not when Hop kissed him and held him and made love to him and said  _ “I love you, you and no one else,” _ his face against Victor’s shoulder in the dark hotel room where no one else existed. Trembling hands, ice-hot kisses and blood-freezing like fire, Victor loves Hop like he’s never loved before.

A first love – but it’s not important because Hop is Victor’s first.

Hop is a necessity because Victor let Hop into his heart through a window, allowing him to sneak inside and curl up in all of the best spots. Victor became complacent with Hop’s presence and forgot what Hop means to him – why he’s there in the first place. And now, Victor chases after Hop because nothing else matters.

_ I love you, Hop. _

Did he say it enough? Is Hop satisfied with Victor’s love? Are they enough, just the two of them against Galar, holding hands until the end of time? If Hop lets go of him, will Victor be able to face the crowds with a smile and a wink, pretending that everything is okay?

_ No. _

Purple hair,

_ Hop slices through the crowd, squeezing Victor’s hand. They ignore the too-loud whispers around them as they maneuver away from the situation. _

and bronze eyes –

_ an innate glow, a curiosity that persists, _

his laugh,

_ like a windchime, unlimited and twinkling, _

firm hands,

_ digging through mud to unearth his foot, wrapping his wounds, spreading him apart with love and vigor  _ –

Victor trips over a misplaced root just before the bridge leading to the Weald’s atrium. His raw skin prickles against the gelid water, contracting in opposition. He yells for help, but in the water, it comes out as an unintelligible garble. His clothes are heavy and sticking to his skin, and his bag feels like a lead weight dragging him down to the riverbed. Victor can’t leave his Pokémon trapped at the bottom of the river, but he can’t reach the top like this. 

He’s too weak.

Victor can’t swim when he’s drained, hopeless, and chained to the ground. Victor feels like every movement is a waste, extracting his energy until there’s nothing left to take. Nothing gets him closer to Hop – the air he needs to survive. 

_ I won’t die here, _ Victor thinks as his invisible tears melt into the surrounding aqua.  _ I can’t leave him like this. It can’t be the end. _

Another scream and the bubbles rise like smoke. His vision closes in on him, black lining the edges.

_ No. _

Victor can’t resist the urge to inhale much longer.

_ If I do, then  _ –

Indigo bursts into his reservoirs. He can’t tell reality from fantasy, and in this moment, he doesn’t want to. Warm hands grasp his own; an angelic faerie propels him forward. Together, they fracture the glass surface, kicking each other’s legs as they try to stay afloat. Victor gasps for air, relief inundating his lungs. He’s dragged to the opposite bank, where the sunlight pierces through the mist.

“Victor, holy shit, are you okay?” a voice prods. Victor is surely dead by now – Hop’s concerned features are golden and glowing. He thanks Arceus for letting him see Hop before he’s sent into eternal damnation. Savoring the moment, Victor tugs Hop down into a sloppy, drenched kiss, their teeth clacking as he loves Hop one last time.

“I’m sorry for being careless,” he whispers into Hop’s lips, “I guess this is the end.”

“Don’t joke around like that, Vic,” Hop pleads, checking Victor’s pulse. He collapses onto Victor’s chest, spent from carrying the other boy out. “I’m glad you’re fine.”

_ This is real. _

“Hop,” Victor wheezes. “It hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, rolling off Victor, “please, don’t cry.”

“Are you mad at me?” Victor asks feebly.

“No,” Hop replies, pulling Victor into a sopping-wet embrace. Even through the cold fabric, Victor can feel Hop’s warmth. He weeps into Hop’s see-through white shirt. Hop is here by his side again – he knew Hop would come to the deepest reaches of the weald in his worst moments.

“I’m sorry,” Victor says. “It hurt so much when you said you didn’t love me, Hop. I love you so much that hearing it, even if it wasn’t true… I wanted to cry.”

“Vic, no, I should be apologizing to you,” Hop replies, kissing Victor’s cheeks. Under his skin, Victor can feel heat bloom out from the spots Hop grazes against. “I shouldn’t have said that – I should have known it would hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” Victor says. Because it is – if Hop will stay with him, then that’s all that matters. The fall air is crisp and violent against their shivering bodies, but it only brings them closer together. “I just don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” Hop asks.

“Why did you run?” Victor asks. “Why did you leave?”

Hop takes a deep breath.

“I was scared.”

_ Scared? Of what?  _ Victor wants to ask, but he already knows. Galar’s prying eyes, pointed teeth, and endless jeers – they both know what it’s like to be in the spotlight against one’s own will. But with Hop by his side –

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Victor assures him, lacing their fingers together. “I’m here with you.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Hop admits meekly. “You saw how that guy reacted – imagine how everyone else will, Vic. It’s not safe to come out.”

“It’s not safe to be outed like this, either,” Victor says. Hop knows he’s right – the nature of their relationship is malleable in the media’s hands, and if they don’t want their public images to be corrupted, then they should confess. There’s no point in hiding when the Meowth’s already out of the bag, and both of them know that they can’t hide the truth forever.

“What should we do, Vic?” Hop asks. 

Victor stares at him with acrylic-coated eyes.

“Let’s face it together,” Victor says. “We haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just you and I – we’re just dating. We haven’t harmed anyone. So if you’re okay with it, then I…”

“Want to come out,” Hop finishes. “You want to tell the world how deeply we’re in love.”

Victor nods.

“Gay marriage isn’t even legal here yet, Vic,” Hop sighs.

“We can make it legal,” Victor insists. He doesn’t know if they can – but he’ll sure as hell try. Hop looks at him with  _ those eyes, _ holding back tears, and Victor’s heart screeches to a stop. If coming out isn’t what Hop wants, he’ll accept Hop’s decision and he can always try again later. They just have to figure out how to cover this up now –

“Okay,” Hop whispers, nuzzling his neck. It’s not a reaction Victor expects, but it’s one he’ll accept with open arms. He smiles as Hop murmurs into his skin. “We can do it together.”

_ “Together,” _ Victor sobs, because of course he does. Their dread trickles down in the form of saline, sliding into the grassy earth. Negativity vaporizes, gone like a ghost. Only tears remain, the only remnants of his swamped heart left in this world.

“I trust you,” Hop says, kissing him again. “I promise I’ll protect you through all this – so please, protect me too.”

“Yes,” Victor says. “Of course I will, Hop.”

Bergamot tea and barley soup. Spicy curry over multigrain rice. Hop pushing Victor into a hotel bed, nipping at his lips until Victor caves into the sensation. These are all things that Victor loves, truths carved into his being. Victor doesn’t need proof to explain his feelings for Hop – it’s obvious, observable, and the only logical conclusion to his latest actions.

“I love you,” Hop says.

“I love you too,” Victor laughs.

_ Can I stay by your side forever? _

Victor closes his eyes and listens to his past dreams drift, swimming away to the galaxy and beyond. Perhaps Hop is all he needs to go on.

* * *

“I think I’m going to resign this year,” Victor admits. Hop freezes, paces away from his own bedroom. Victor’s talking to someone on the phone – Hop doesn’t know who – and he sounds really, really  _ tired. _

“Why?” Lee’s voice rings through the air like an arrow through a Stantler’s thick skin. “I won’t stop you if you do, but an explanation would be nice.”

“I’m unable to spend as much time with my friends as I want to, and it hurts whenever I’m away from Hop,” Victor reasons, sighing quietly. Hop’s heart sinks. Victor’s loneliness has always been an issue in their relationship, but for it to fester long enough to make Victor give up his dream for Hop? It’s nearly unimaginable. Hop doesn’t want Victor to sign away his title like he hasn’t worked his hardest for it.

“That’s a terrible reason,” Leon says. “Why don’t you just ask Hop to live with you?”

_ What? _ Hop feels light-headed at the suggestion. Living with Victor? Sure, he wouldn’t mind it  _ hypothetically, _ but would Victor really want to live with  _ him? _ He never makes his bed, and he’s lazy when it comes to doing laundry – plus Hop would probably want to jump Victor every single time he does something mildly attractive. Still, it’s not a terrible idea… 

“Are you kidding?” Victor squeaks incredulously. “I mean, I want to, but won’t people talk about us? Doesn’t he have to complete his degree? Does he even want to live with me? I can’t just ask him all of a sudden!”

“You’re literally going to openly admit your relationship the day of the Challenger Cup, Victor,” Leon sighs. “And didn’t Hop tell you? He’s taking his last few exams this week.”

“What?  _ Fuck, _ I shouldn’t be here,” Victor says, clearly miffed. “He didn’t say anything – I must be disturbing him, oh Arceus –”

Hop slams the door open, making both Victor and Leon flinch at his sudden entrance. 

“I’ll live with you when this is all over,” Hop says. Victor looks at him, shocked – and to be fair, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, either. 

“Seriously?” Victor says unsurely. “Wait, how much did you hear?”

“Everything since you said you wanted to resign,” Hop says. “Don’t do it, Vic. If anyone’s gonna be my champion, I want it to be you – sorry, Lee.”

His brother smiles. “My baby brother is growing up and falling in love –”

_ “Stop it, _ Lee, don’t tease me,” he grunts, turning to a still-petrified Victor. “So, what do you say? Would you want to live with me?”

“Yes,” Victor squawks. “Arceus, please, yes.”

Hop laugh-cries as Leon chuckles in the background. Victor kisses him all over when he ends the call, giggling at Hop’s embarrassed face. Their tongues tie and their fingers tangle like string, waving as the wind blows.

* * *

Victor fastens the clasp at his neck, fumbling with the oversized cape on his shoulders. The rainbow flag has a sheen unlike any other. Painted onto his champion’s cape, it stands out against Victor’s jersey, glistening like the centerpiece at a fancy banquet. The board doesn’t know what he’s prepared, but do they need to at this point?

No.

Victor knows what he wants – he’s not afraid anymore, not with Hop’s name engraved in the left shoulder of the fabric. It’s written in gold, just like the hints of their past encounters that come flashing back at mach speed whenever Hop smiles. If Galar accepts him, then he and Hop can live a happy life together. But Victor knows the board won’t accept them. 

Red.

Victor’s favorite color. His shirts and hoodies are red; he only wears red converse; the red omamori charm on his bag, worn from years of use. It’s passionate, filled with life, and vibrant. It’s the color of his favorite childhood superhero, Sentai Red – meaning protection, strength, and power. It towers over the other colors like a guardian spirit – like Zamazenta, Galar’s shield. 

Orange.

Like the sunsets they share together, orange always heals him. Orange reminds him of Hop’s eyes in bright light, or maybe iced tea on a hot summer afternoon. Victor picked Scorbunny because it was a fire type – associated with red – but he grew to love orange, too. A Pyro Ball larger than life itself – that’s what Victor wants to be for Hop.

Yellow.

Hop’s eyes in their youth before they mellowed out into a deeper brown. Curries that use too many Sitrus berries. Both Zamazenta and Zacian have glowing xanthous eyes and regal armor made of pure gold. Like sunlight, like stars, brighter than the rest – the yellow screams, “hey, I’m here too,” as if it wants to be recognized.

Green.

The weald’s leaves spinning to the ground. Rillaboom’s hair. Victor remembers the jealousy he felt toward Bede at Marnie’s birthday and smiles to himself, bathing in his own envy. Now, Victor knows he understood it all wrong – there was no point in the pining, the tears, or the frustration. He should’ve known Bede’s feelings – but there was no way he could’ve, he reminds himself. Now, green can resemble the love that grows like vines, spreading into every crack in his walls.

Blue.

Zacian’s cobalt fur matches the river running through the weald. Blue are the ripples lapping against his chest in a warm bath, purifying his stained body. It’s the loneliness Victor feels when he lays in bed and Hop’s not at his side. It’s a construction of their misery – an abstract notion hammered into existence by their beating hearts. The sky they share is a turquoise canvas dotted with ashen clouds, marred by black smoke that blocks the sun. Hop dismantles the darkness and brings Victor into an aquamarine kiss. He’s the dawn that dissects Victor’s worst nightmares, an unstoppable sword forged to cut through sinners. 

Purple.

Royal and regal – the color of the crown Hop wears upon his head. Tangled in the morning, but softer and more luxurious than any expensive bed, Hop’s hair is a memory Victor can’t forget. Anthocyanin embedded in ube ice cream, wisteria that swing from on high, and magical secrets whispered under strobe lights – that’s what purple means. Peace, too – harmony, respect, purity, tranquility – peace is the same purple as Hop’s luscious locks. 

Victor is ready.

Step by step, he enters the stadium. He hates this feeling – hates feeling small amongst the crowd, hates having Hop not here next to him to comfort him and tell him everything will be alright. He hates how he can hear people jeering from above at his self-expression worn on his back. But he loves, too – he loves his loyal fans, the children he inspires to pick up battling, the thrill of winning. Most of all, he loves Hop – he knows he’s watching from inside the locker room, waiting for his lover’s return. The challenger at the opposite side looks  _ enraged _ but elevated – willing to fight Victor like he’s the last boss battle in his life.

Victor turns on his microphone and trots toward the trainer for a handshake. He narrows his eyes and frowns before yanking Victor’s arm up and down so hard it almost feels like his shoulder dislocates. Victor pulls back in shock as the crowd turns to murmurs.

“I was planning on it anyway, but I’ll have to dethrone you even more brutally now,” the challenger sniffs, “I don’t want a  _ queer _ being champion.”

Victor’s taken aback, but he stutters out a few words anyway.

“I’ll defend my title.”

Okay, that wasn’t what he wanted to say –

“And gay rights, just so you know.”

Better.

Cinderace jumps out of her ball, seething and ready to roll. She dons a rainbow bracelet around her left wrist – matching Bisharp, Victor reminds himself. Clearly, even his Pokémon are spitting in their balls, aghast at the  _ audacity _ of the trainer. His unworthy opponent calls out his Seismitoad, and unflinchingly, Victor commands a Bounce, sending Cinderace straight in the air. It’s nothing new, but it catches the challenger and his frog off guard, and she slams into the frog’s face with an angry cry.

It retaliates with an Earthquake, which Cinderace is too slow to avoid after such an exhaustive move, nearly taking her out. She gets back up anyway and goes for a High Jump Kick to the Pokémon’s face as it uses Scald at point-blank distance. They skid away from each other, chests heaving, but Seismitoad falls before Cinderace succumbs to its injuries.

“I’m sorry, Cindy,” Victor whispers against her ball. The crowd roars. He has to double-check to make sure he’s turned the microphone off, but he quickly realizes the opposing trainer has already called out his next Pokémon – his own Cinderace. Victor sends out Hatterene, brandishing a multi-colored bow around her hat.

“Forcing your Pokémon to wear gay clothes?” the trainer sneers. “I didn’t think you were that stupid. No one in Galar likes gays.”

“You’re wrong,” Victor says calmly. Cinderace growls in her ball, spreading anger to his team like a forest fire.

_ “Destroy. End this man’s career,” _ she murmurs. Hatterene seems to know what everyone else is thinking, because she lets out a loud, high-pitched keen, rocking the crowds with her resentful call.

Hatterene doesn’t hesitate and uses a Psychic, forcing the opposing Cinderace into the walls with sheer mental strength. She dominates the fight, smiting the enemy without remorse. The other trainer’s Cinderace falls to its knees and he groans before sending out a Dragapult. Even though he knows Hatterene can handle it, he returns her to her ball anyway, calling out Zacian instead.

It’s her debut in a stadium, Victor remembers as she turns back to him in concern. Still yet, she stands strong, ready to cut through the poor Dragapult’s attacks like they’re butter. She’s unaffected by the Dragon Pulse and goes for a Moonbeam, scorching the poor drake to its second death.

The opponent’s Pokémon drop like Cutiefly exposed to a Chandelure’s flames. The battle is almost easy, but he can’t tell if the crowd is cheering or booing at him – and it unnerves him. Championship battles are usually like purgatory – they’re redundant and faceless, lacking meaning in every way. This battle, however, is for Hop – Victor will win if it means they can be together. It’s not about Galar’s happiness for once – it’s about Victor and  _ Hop, _ about their love and their dreams shaping their futures.

Time and time again, they reach for each other.

Tsareena stomps the opponent’s Stunfisk into the ground mercilessly, only pausing to adjust the rainbow ribbons wrapped around her crown. Bisharp guts the Grimmsnarl with a withering glare – penetrating through fur with pent-up anger and only getting angrier when the Pokémon goes for her beaded bracelet. Victor has to call her back after she takes him down – she stalks toward the other trainer with bloodlust in her eyes, and Victor isn’t going to approve a massacre in front of a crowd.

The trainer’s last Pokémon is an Eiscue, but Victor sends out Eternatus anyway, her form blotting out the sunlight as she roars above. She knocks the penguin over, and its ice face shatters, leaving it vulnerable but much quicker. With her core burning bright, she releases a Flamethrower straight into its face. 

It’s over.

“Thank you for the battle,” Victor smiles. 

The loser looks crushed, but he warily returns the expression.

Without offering the challenger a second handshake, he saunters out of sight and into the tunnel leading to the stadium. Whistles around him leap and sizzle – of course homophobia isn’t eradicated, but maybe it could be – they could work toward it. With Hop at his side, Victor can do anything – he’s undefeatable and resilient, a tree standing tall in a thunderstorm. 

Loud screams echo through the hall as Victor makes his way through the tunnel. They sound less like the cries of a fan and more like the qualms of someone discontent. Victor rounds the corner and bumps into someone, who reaches for Victor’s cape, as he wants to tear it off. Security drags the man away from Victor, and that’s when he recognizes the board member from earlier that week. Leon snickers when Victor comes closer, motioning for him to enter the locker room. Instead, Victor stops at the entrance and asks Leon even more questions.

“What just happened here?” Victor asks as Leon throws a towel around his neck and hands him a water bottle.

“Just fired him,” Leon says happily. “Oh, by the way – thanks to you, the board disbanded.”

_ What? _ Victor isn’t ready for this conversation – he just wants to crawl inside and kiss Hop until his lips fall off. Nothing makes sense – Disband? The Macro Cosmos Board of Directors? Was it really that simple? Seeing Victor’s confused face, Leon laughs and pats him on the back, hard enough to make him stumble forward. 

“They didn’t want to associate with you, so now I’m the one in control,” Leon explains. “I guess it worked out for us in the end! You must be exhausted, Vic – Hop’s waiting for you inside.”

Leon nudges him into the air-conditioned room, and for the first time in five years, Victor feels…

Like he’s done something right. Like maybe this will all work out.

_ Will everything be okay? _

He can finally answer that question with an undeniable “yes.”


	8. Chapter 8

Sweat drenches his rainbow cape, but Victor smiles.

Pulling off his Champion garb is liberating. Bit by bit, Victor strips off his shirt and shorts, peeling the garments off of his sticky skin. After a quick rinse, he tugs on some pants. Victor struggles to put them on, his legs still slightly damp from the shower. Noticing the prominence of his ribs, Victor frowns, tracing over his chest. _I should never have gone on that diet,_ he thinks to himself. _I lost so much muscle mass._

Robust arms wrap around his waist, coaxing him into an embrace. The familiar aromas of bergamot and lavender encompass him, stagnating in his chest. Victor leans into his boyfriend’s warmth with a sigh.

“You did so well,” Hop coos like Victor’s just undergone the most difficult task in his life. “I’m so proud of you, Vic.”

“It’s because I knew I could return to you,” Victor insists, chuckling when Hop tickles his neck with a kiss. They don’t need words to speak – Victor already knows “I love you” in Hop’s language. He can’t express the effervescence generated by Hop’s touch or just how _weird_ he feels when Hop’s hands brush against his bare torso, riling him up in so many different ways.

“I’m just happy you’re here,” Hop whispers, already licking and sucking at Victor’s neck. He’ll leave a hickey if he doesn’t stop, but Victor doesn’t tell him off.

“Mmm, kiss me?” Victor requests, ruffling Hop’s hair. Hop twirls Victor around, sparking dizziness in his brain. Their lips mingle, colliding like two black holes – absorbing each other with immense gravity. He can’t pull away from Hop’s dazzle-inducing movements – thawing at his fingertips. Victor chases after Hop when he breaks their kiss, but his boyfriend stands up straight – effectively moving out of Victor’s reach.

“Still not satisfied?” Hop laughs, caressing Victor’s cheek. “We can kiss after you put on some clothes.”

“I think I’d rather take them off,” Victor grins, relishing the blush that flutters across Hop’s face. Brown eyes savor Victor’s undressed state before snapping away in an attempt to conceal their lust.

“Tempting me while all those reporters are waiting outside? I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Hop teases, a hand trailing over Victor’s abdomen. “Unless you want the whole world to know how loud you scream when you’re underneath me.”

“I want them to know we’re together, but they don’t need to know about our sex life,” Victor says, rolling his eyes. “Move so I can put on my shirt, then.”

“But you’re so _handsome,”_ Hop sighs, stepping away. Victor rummages through his bag. 

His shirt is missing.

“I forgot my shirt at home,” Victor groans. “Can you buy me a polo or something at the mall?”

“You don’t keep an extra pair in your locker?” Hop hums. “Lucky for you, I brought a change of clothes.”

“Why would you do that?” Victor asks as Hop plops a poorly-folded black tee into his arms. It smells just like Hop – heavenly and tangy. Victor tugs it over his head and glances in the mirror nearby. It’s a little too big on him, but he can just tuck the ends in.

“I was thinking about camping with you,” Hop admits, “so I took some clothes and a Camping Set with me.”

“Sounds great,” Victor says. “Let’s ditch this place and make out in a tent somewhere.”

“How are we going to get out of here?” Hop asks.

“Make a run for it?”

“Everyone is waiting outside.”

“We could just face the crowds,” Victor suggests. Hop moves in for another kiss – fleeting but enough to make his heart buzz. Rotom slips from his pocket and snaps a photo of the two, tittering when they separate. The playful spirit opens up Chatter, prompting Victor to scroll through his feed.

“Post it,” Hop says. 

“What should I caption it?” Victor muses, showing Hop the image. It’s pure – nothing inappropriate or conniving – just two boyfriends sharing a smooch after a long battle. Victor types out a few sentences and deletes them after reading them over. He attempts a few different descriptions, but they’re either too dramatic or too vague. 

“I don’t know,” Hop says. “What do you want to caption it?”

Victor pauses and writes, _“my intelligent, attractive, and amazing boyfriend gives me congratulatory kisses when I win.”_ It’s the truth – no minced words or white lies. Without consulting Hop, he taps the “Chat” button, posting it to his public profile.

“‘Intelligent, attractive, and amazing?’ Don’t you think you’re going a bit overboard there?” Hop chuckles, flustered from Victor’s praise. “I’m flattered, but I really don’t think I’m any of those things. You’re the more impressive one.”

“You are,” Victor insists. “Look at yourself, Hop – you’re on your way to being a Pokémon Professor and you’re not even twenty-two. You’re smart, kind, thoughtful, and so much more – I don’t even know how to say it properly, Hop. I love you.”

“I love you too, Vic,” Hop says bashfully. “But seriously – you’re the undefeated champion of the Galar region, you saved the world, and you tamed a space dragon. I’d say that’s much cooler than sitting in a lab and testing Pokémon DNA all day.”

“You’re the one who made it all possible,” Victor says.

“What are you talking about?” Hop asks, confused. “You did most of those things on your own.”

“And who fought Eternatus with me?” Victor points out. “Whose idea was it to return to the Slumbering Weald and retrieve the sword and shield? I wouldn’t have started battling if it weren’t for you, Hop – I wouldn’t be here without you. I’ve never thanked you once for any of it, either – but you’ve never complained –”

Hop jolts forward, smashing their lips together in an attempt to shut Victor up. It works – Victor freezes like he’s been placed into liquid nitrogen. A taste like Tanqueray and tangerine tumbles into his mouth as Hop explores his cavernous soul. Bitter and sweet, sour but delectable – that’s the flavor of Hop’s tongue, tangling with his. Breaking for breath is somehow more painful than suffocating. Just as he needs oxygen, Victor needs Hop too.

“You taste delicious,” Hop comments, still panting for air.

“Thank you,” Victor says, squeezing Hop tight, “for loving me.” 

_For everything._

“I give you so much because I want to,” Hop says. “I love you, and I want to keep loving you – so don’t thank me. Your achievements are your own – you only have yourself to thank.”

“I’ll show you appreciation until you realize how much you’ve done for me – how much you mean to me,” Victor huffs, pouting into Hop’s shoulder. “Shall we head out, by the way? I’m sure the paparazzi have already caught wind of my post.”

“Can we stay like this?” Hop asks.

“Yes,” Victor nearly screams. “Anything for you.”

“I love you,” Hop says.

“I love you,” Victor replies, “more than anything.”

Their Rotom trill, breaking the single-second-long silence between them. Even their Pokemon harmonize – they’re two sprites singing the same love song to the tune of Victor and Hop’s combined heartbeat. The melody brings Victor a high, inexplicably forcing him deeper into Hop’s arms. Love is a fastened seat belt that protects him during a car crash, but it’s also the instigator – colliding with hatred and tearing through metallic boundaries. 

“Vic, when do you want to move in together?” Hop asks over the cheers that grow louder and louder from outside. Victor knows that the crowds are reacting to his post – they definitely can’t hear Hop right now. Even so, it feels like Galar is applauding for him – for their relationship. Hop _wants_ to live with Victor. It’s… relieving, somehow – the positivity definitely appears to outweigh the negativity.

“Tomorrow,” Victor says, and he means it. “Or… whenever you’re done clearing up things in Postwick.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing for the past half-year,” Hop snorts, running his hands through Victor’s hair. “You know, I’ve never been to your new house.”

“It may be my house, but it’s not my home yet,” Victor giggles. “No place can be a home without you there.”

“Arceus, don’t say embarrassing things,” Hop half-grumbles. The tightening grip on Victor’s hand betrays his true feelings, though – returning the sentiment.

He kisses Hop for what feels like the hundredth time, and they tumble into each other’s bodies, combusting at contact.

* * *

Of course, not everything goes to plan.

They wait two hours before emerging together – and honestly, they should have waited longer, because the crowd hasn’t died down at all. Victor’s lips are redder than Cheri berries, and a reporter can’t help but tease him about it. At the same time, unwanted questions soar through the air at the two of them.

“So, Hop, do you dominate the Champion in bed? Or does he dominate you?”

“How long have you been dating for? What brand of lube do you use?”

“Do you two plan on donating sperm for a child or adopting?”

Victor scrunches up his nose at the last one. Their private life is their business, so why should it matter to the _whole fucking region?_ Publicly dating is one thing, but everyone knowing how Victor and Hop get down to the nitty-gritty is _definitely_ not something on Victor’s bucket list.

“We are not taking any questions right now, sorry,” Victor says, voice devoid of emotion. All he wants to do right now is take Hop home and screw him (or be screwed) into the bed. And then cuddle, drink tea, have a nice meal, cuddle more –

Someone throws a balled-up paper at him, whacking him in the nose.

“Hey, what the fuck?” Hop mutters under his breath as the media snaps photos of the two. “Did you see that?”

“Kinda hard not to, but yeah,” Victor says, already moving on. “Just ignore it, the league staff will take care of it.”

“Champion Victor!” a fangirl screams from the side, bawling her eyes out. “I thought we had something together – a special connection! I loved you, but now – you’re dating him, you’ve betrayed _us –_ ”

She’s mobbed by a bunch of other fans before Victor can reply, and Hop nudges him forward reluctantly.

“Do you deal with this shit on a _regular basis?”_ Hop grumbles. “Are your fans always this crazy?”

They step out of the front doors together. Victor pulls out Eternatus’s Poké Ball, and everyone clears a space around them – already knowing Victor’s next move.

“Yeah, but not for long,” he says, sending out the vigilant dragon, who roars as she stretches, nearly knocking over some too-close bystanders. “Get on. Let’s go to your lab.”

Victor _really_ could get used to the feeling of Hop’s chest pressed against his back.

* * *

He starts working from home just as Hop decides he’s ready to move in. 

And actually, holding the “champion” title is a _lot_ easier when Hop is at his side to help him. Victor’s patchwork life, sewn together by their feelings, grows a lot fluffier now that Hop is around. Perhaps, Victor indulges himself a little more during long nights just to mull over Hop’s bruised flesh in the mornings. He’s not the only one covered in marks, though. Hop’s careless love bites pepper Victor’s neck and shoulders while scratches litter his back and thighs. Without the need to cover up, they can lay claim to each other lazily and consistently – snuggling under blankets until dawn disturbs them.

Professor Hop, however, has things to take care of too.

During the most recent expedition, where Hop’s out and about in the Wild Area and Victor’s not invited, he forms a habit of gnawing at his dry lips and tearing the skin. The last thing Victor expected to be a problem was his libido, but now… Victor flops onto his side, staring out the window at a sleeping Eternatus wrapped around Zacian and Zamazenta protectively. He turns back and lifts up his shirt, sub-zero fingertips against his pectoral muscles.

It’s only been two days without Hop, yet Victor can’t help but yearn for his warm palms – traveling up his chest and playing with his nerves like they’re the strings of a guitar, up and down his body. Victor’s hands are not at all like Hop’s – they’re too thin, his nails are just a little too long, and worst of all, they just aren’t _Hop’s._

Victor can’t remember the last time he felt so _deprived_ of pleasure – probably because he’s never felt like this before. He remembers what it was like to jack off before their first time together in the hotel. Back then, Victor rarely ever thought of sex – he maybe fantasized a few times, but typically he could just push himself to an orgasm in the shower and fall asleep after. Victor presses into the tender and blue flesh at his hips with a sigh. Hop spent the whole day before his departure screwing the wind out of Victor’s sails, languidly lapping at broken skin when Victor begged him to stay.

Okay, maybe he was a little whipped for Hop. There’s nothing _wrong_ with that, Victor reminds himself. Hop is his boyfriend, and it’s normal for Victor to want someone so illegally alluring. But wanting and needing are two different things – and Victor _needs_ Hop right now as he palms himself through baggy sweatpants. Today’s word is _unfair_ – it’s flat out unfair that Hop gets to go on trips without him, especially when he’s gotten used to the scent of sex in the past three months that Hop’s lived with him.

Maybe that’s why.

Damn Hop, fucking his circadian rhythm up – literally, he’s turned screwing (or being screwed by) Victor into a daily routine, and the recent disruption has absolutely _ruined_ Victor’s life. He pants into his hand, delirious and pent-up from a single day of Hop’s absence. It’s not Hop’s fault that Victor’s mind goes completely unhinged whenever Hop isn’t there. Victor hadn’t expected _sexual frustration_ to hit him in the face. If anything, he prepared himself for mental breakdowns instead – something he’s much more familiar with.

This isn’t familiar at all.

Hours pass as Victor uselessly tries to imitate Hop’s harsh movements, imagining his ragged voice and spent face – but nothing works, and the sun already twinkles above the horizon. 

This will be a long week.

* * *

When Hop comes home, Victor pounces on him, waiting like a Liepard in the dark. Victor dives into his prey’s mouth, digging his nails into Hop’s defined biceps. Hop doesn’t question Victor’s desire, only reciprocating with the touch of his tongue. Victor wants to do the unspeakable with Hop while they’re standing in the main entrance – but he knows better not to. 

Mid-kiss, Hop’s heavy bag clatters to the ground. Hands squeeze Victor’s bottom, eliciting a slight gasp from the slightly shorter man. Hop takes advantage of Victor’s surprise and tumbles forward, shoving him onto the cold hardwood floor. A thigh makes its way between Victor’s legs, feeling his painfully hard dick through denim fabric.

“Welcome home, Hop,” Victor smiles, breathless. “I missed you.”

“I can tell,” Hop laughs, lacing their hands together. “I missed you too.”

“I’d ask you about your trip –” Victor’s breath hitches when Hop’s warm hand dances up his shirt and catches against his erect nipple, “but maybe we should save that for later.”

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Hop says, already sliding off his lab coat. Beads of sweat are forming on his neck and it’s _hot_ to a degree that Victor can’t stand. In frustration, Victor hastily fumbles with Hop’s belt, undoing the buckle before Hop slides it off. 

“Tell me more,” Victor hisses, dipping his hand into Hop’s boxers. Hop is thick and scalding hot against his thin hands, pulsating beneath his touch. Hop groans in pleasure, his eyes rolling back. 

“Let’s go upstairs first,” Hop suggests, grasping Victor’s hand with a knowing smile. “I know you’re excited, and so am I, but it’s probably best to do it in a bed.

“Fine,” Victor huffs, retracting his hand. “But you’re carrying me up there since you pushed me down.”

Hop scoops Victor up in his muscular arms, huffing as he ascends the stairs to their shared bedroom. When he dumps Victor onto the unmade bed, Hop tugs off his shirt slowly – teasing Victor with the sight of his abdomen. Victor throws his own clothes to the floor and pulls Hop on top of him so that he’s straddling Victor’s thighs.

“Want me to ride you?” Hop asks, connecting blemishes on Victor’s skin like they’re constellations.

“Shouldn’t I ride you?” Victor retorts, flipping their positions with ease. Hop is exhausted from whatever work he’s been doing – and Victor’s been hyping up their next session more than necessary. Victor should be the one doing the work for Hop when he’s so dazed he appears almost sleepy. If this was any other day, Hop would resist such an abrupt position change – but it’s Victor’s greeting gift, and a gift from Victor is a gift he can’t deny.

“Have you been thinking about this?” Hop laughs when Victor rustles through the sheets to retrieve the bottle of lube. He sticks his tongue out and uncaps the bottle with a loud pop, squeezing the icy lotion directly onto Hop’s dick. His boyfriend yelps when Victor drags his palm up and down the shaft. Victor’s already fingered himself open, but more lube can’t hurt, he assumes, rolling his hand over the head of Hop’s dick.

“I have,” Victor admits. “Does it feel good?”

“Not as good as your walls around me, but still pretty good.”

Victor rolls his eyes and positions himself above Hop’s dick. To be fair, he’s done a lot of preparation, but it still feels all too abrupt when Hop rubs against his hole. For good measure, Victor slides Hop’s length along his crack, dampening his entrance slightly. Hop’s hands settle on his hips and Victor sinks down onto Hop’s dick with a whine. He knows how to work himself up to Hop’s size by now, but his girth is still overwhelming nonetheless – probably because it’s been a few days since they’ve done it last.

“Holy shit, you’re tighter than I remember,” Hop moans when Victor grinds down, searching for his own prostate. He lets Victor take control, resisting the urge to buck up into Victor as he bounces up and down, shaking the bed with every movement. The way Victor’s face contorts in indistinguishable pleasure after just a few moments is delectable – biting his knuckles and stabilizing himself with one hand.

Technically, this is Victor’s first time bottoming from the top – they’ve never experimented with positions other than boring missionary and sixty-nining. The bed’s squeaks seem worse than any other time they’ve had sex, and if Victor moves the wrong way, Hop’s dick might just snap in two. It does feel good – but it’s also nerve-wracking whenever Hop grits his teeth and sucks in air like he’s in pain. Victor slides off for a second, feeling incredibly empty. Hop looks at him with curious eyes as he adjusts his arms and legs so that his chest is right in Hop’s face.

“I can’t see you properly like this, Vic,” Hop complains, nibbling at his collarbone. 

Victor’s not done, though – he scoots back so his butt is right above Hop’s dick. He’s on his hands and knees as he pushes back and down, slipping Hop’s thick cock inside of him. For some reason, it feels like it’s going deeper than ever – and Hop, taking his panting as a sign to start moving, thrusts up, jamming straight into Victor’s prostate.

“Holy shit!” Victor mewls, tightening up instantly. He can feel himself press down in tandem with Hop, balling his fists into the pillow near Hop’s head. Each time Hop taps the bundle of nerves, Victor chases the sensation and jerks downward, only to be stopped by Hop’s strong hands. He’s been building this release for the past week, and the denial burns like hellfire in his gut. “I’ll ride you really hard, please let me do it, Hop, I’ll be good –”

Hop merely brushes against his dick and he comes, splattering between their chests with a loud, choked scream. He droops as he stutters backward, smearing the white paste everywhere as he collapses.

“Eager, huh?” Hop hums, thumbing over his tip. “Do you wanna stop now? It’s up to you.”

Victor’s trembling, but he shakes his head no. _Keep going,_ he mouths, too afraid to say the words out loud because he doesn’t know how lewd they’ll sound. Hop kisses Victor’s chest and lays him to the side, getting cum on the _freshly changed sheets._ He’s too fatigued to scold Hop, though – and he makes up for it by climbing on top of Victor and pressing him down into the bed from behind. 

He can feel Hop’s tongue on his trapezius, sucking another hickey into his skin. Whether it’s apprehension or excitement that jolts through his spine, Victor can’t tell. He’s used to seeing Hop’s face when they make love – but somehow, he’s not completely terrified. Hop’s hands soothe his nerves, grabbing his hips and caressing his sides. Victor whimpers when Hop enters him again, struggling into his grasp. His hands flutter to the sheets and dig his nails into the mattress.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” Hop asks, withdrawing. 

“Don’t stop, please,” Victor groans. “I like it.”

“I like you,” Hop says. Victor can feel his boyfriend smile into his neck. It’s a really dumb thing to say – and all too obvious – but Victor echoes it anyway.

His thighs tighten when Hop brushes against that _spot_ again. Victor is all too weak to hold back his voice, and his limbs quiver like they’re in a tundra. Everything is still for a moment, and then Hop rocks into him at a steady pace, rhythmically filling him. Hop pants as he rushes himself to completion, quickly spilling over inside of Victor with a sigh.

“I love you,” Victor says when Hop pulls out, already deflating and rolling off of him.

“I love you too,” Hop replies. The look in his eyes is one of satisfaction – as if everything is finally over.

Well, not everything. Victor still has Hop next to him.

Victor kisses Hop to sleep as they languidly lay in their shared bed. He’s finally content – he has everything he’s ever wanted. Splayed across the jostled sheets, the two hold hands. Victor stares up at the ceiling and imagines waves washing over them, cold water cleansing their souls as they bask in the sunlight for eternity.

Victor, age 21, has never been happier in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i guess this is the end of axiom. i hope you enjoyed the smut and the sadness. i've already been thinking about a sequel where they get married... but let's be real, we need some other fics, and it can't just be me writing them.
> 
> that's right, dear reader, if you enjoyed this fic and are also sincerely deprived of hpms/hopvic fanfiction, then i suggest that you pick up fanfic writing as a hobby! benefits include: crying! drawing lots of fanart! self-doubt! happiness! satisfaction! want that 40k smut fanfic that no one else is gonna write and you've been quarantined for the foreseeable future? write that fanfiction!
> 
> on a serious note, if you'd like to contact me, i'm typically on twitter! https://twitter.com/nashijang 
> 
> anyway, if anyone's interested in hanahaki hpms/hopvic AU.... lmk, b/c i'm prolly gonna write one...

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! 
> 
> if you enjoyed this, please leave a comment or kudos - it helps motivate me to write more!


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